A Talent for Turnabout
by Ari Moriarty
Summary: The rigidity of the law doesn't leave much room for creativity or experimentation. Our heroes rely on their talents in music, magic, science and spirituality to express themselves and find release. Multiple pairings. (Each chapter of this story is inspired by a different song! Please, give me your song and character suggestions!)
1. Prologue: Shadow Days

**Author's Note: **This will be a story about passion, talent, expression, and creative drive.

Throughout the Phoenix Wright series, we see that the law and the legal system are stressful, taxing, and often contradictory to our protagonists' ideals of justice and good. Perhaps to cope with their lives as cogs in the wheels of the legal system, many of the characters in these games have hobbies, interests, or pursuits outside of the law. Several of them are musicians. Others dabble in science or in art. I'd like to write a story that explores the artistic, creative side of these characters.

However…I've been struggling a little bit, lately, with my own art. Frankly, I could use a little inspiration to encourage my creativity. I often use music as the inspiration for my stories, and that's why I've come up with this game for us all to play.

I'd love to write this story based on some of your ideas and suggestions.

I'd like for you, **my beloved and respected reader, **to send me a message or leave me a review giving me two pieces of information.

First, what is your favorite song?

Second, who is your favorite Phoenix Wright character?

Every time someone submits a song and a character, I will write a chapter about that character inspired by/based on the lyric and music of the song. I'll weave all those chapters together into one cohesive story! It sounds a little crazy, but I think it will be a fun and interesting challenge for me, and I hope that we can create a story that you enjoy.

There are only a few rules.

I reserve the right to reject any songs that are, for whatever reason, highly inappropriate. Please make wise, teen-rated song choices.

All of the stories in this collection will work together. They will exist in the same timeline and the same universe, and will not contradict or conflict with each other. Why? Honestly, because I am a little obsessive about that kind of detail. It's not you, it's me. You're fine.

I have NOT yet played the **Miles Edgeworth: Investigations** game. Until I've had a chance to play it, please don't submit any characters that only appear in that game.

If you submit a song, please give me both the **name** of the song, and the **artist** who performs that song, so that I can be as accurate as possible.

Let's have fun and write something really great! Okay, that's not a rule, but it's definitely a good idea, right?

Okay. So, I'll start.

* * *

**Prologue: Shadow Days**

**(December 10, 2026)**

_**Offices of the Wright Anything Agency**_

_I'm a good man_

_With a good heart_

_Had a tough time_

_Got a rough start_

_But I've finally learned to let it go_

_Now I'm right here_

_And I'm right now_

_And I'm open_

_Knowing somehow_

_That my shadow days are over_

_My shadow days are over, now_

That morning, for the very first time in almost eight years, Phoenix Wright dug through his closet and pulled out the last of his once-famous blue courtroom suits.

It was a beautiful day. He got all dressed and washed up with the sun shining through the windows of the little apartment that he shared with his fifteen-year-old daughter, Trucy. Trucy grinned at him as he looked himself over in the mirror.

"You look great, Daddy," she assured him. "You're so dashing! Almost like those pictures of you from the papers, back when you were a real lawyer."

Phoenix Wright raised an eyebrow. "'Almost' like? What's wrong with the way I look now?"

"Um…oh, nothing." Trucy wrinkled her nose. "Like I said, you look great! It's just, you're, um, older now, that's all."

Phoenix took another quick look at his own reflection in the mirror. Trucy was right, of course. He was older, and there were lines on his forehead and under his eyes that hadn't been there before. He wasn't sure when he'd transitioned from 'that young upstart defense lawyer' into a middle-aged man, but he could see middle age staring back at him out of the mirror. At age thirty-three, he was frankly far too young to be old, but the trials and tribulations of the last seven apprehensive and calculating years had really taken a lot out of him. He was wiser now in an uncomfortable sort of way that made him, like so many older men before him, miss the naiveté of youth and the beginning of a promising career.

_Then again, _he decided, _I still don't look bad in a suit. And, hey, I can still wear the same suit I wore when I was twenty five. I'm in pretty good shape. That's something. _

"Daddy," said Trucy, "you have to eat something. We're gonna be late."

"Right." Phoenix eyed the sugary breakfast cereal in Trucy's bowl, shrugged, and sat down.

_Pretty amazing that I managed it, considering what she eats. Maybe it's time that I started doing some of the shopping…_

**_Later, at the Gatewater Hotel_****_.._**

The beautiful ballroom at the Gatewater hotel wasn't exactly packed when Phoenix and Trucy arrived. There were only a few people there, all seated in a couple rows of metal folding chairs. The chairs were all facing the stage, on which stood an impressively glittery grand piano.

Suddenly, for the first time since his debut at the Borscht Bowl Club, Phoenix Wright was a little nervous about playing the piano.

He knew, of course, that he wasn't any good. He wasn't supposed to be any good. He was a poker player, a thinker, a perception artist; but never a real musician.

Now, though, the pressure was on. People were watching. They had actually come just to hear him play.

A little bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck and underneath the collar of the newly starched white shirt.

Trucy must have sensed his anxiety, because she suddenly slipped her hand into his, gave his hand a little squeeze and said, "You can do it! Go get 'em, Daddy!"

All eyes in the room were now on Phoenix Wright.

_I'm used to this kind of thing, right? _He swallowed. _Come on, Nick. This is just like being in the courtroom. I mean, no, actually, it's nothing like being in the courtroom. When I used to argue in court, every word I said and move I made could have had a significant effect on whether or not a person lived or died. Lives were changed and fates were decided based on the stuff I used to do in the courtroom. Compared to that, this is nothing. Not even worth worrying about._

Trucy took her hand away, and gave Phoenix a little nudge in the back.

_Yeah, well, _he thought unhappily, _if that's true, then why am I so nervous? I want to go home…_

Before Phoenix had a chance to protest, Trucy darted away and hurried over to a seat next to her partner in crime, Apollo Justice. Apollo turned and gave Phoenix an awkward little wave, until Trucy elbowed him pointedly in the ribs, and he winced. He nodded, tried to smile, and then, at Trucy's apparent urging, gave Phoenix a half-hearted little "thumbs up" sign. Trucy looked pleased. Phoenix had to cover a laugh.

Seated just behind Apollo and Trucy was the magnificent Thalassa Gramarye, disguised as usual as beautiful and mysterious songstress Lamiroir.

Phoenix placed a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to smile at him, even though she couldn't see him. "I have been looking forward to this day for quite some time," she murmured. "Machi wishes that he could be with us as well, but was unable to obtain the required permissions. No doubt he will request that you repeat this mornings performance at the penitentiary tomorrow, for his benefit."

_I'm not playing the piano for a bunch of prison guards, _thought Phoenix. _Then again, they might be a less discerning audience…_

"Hey! Hey, Niiiick!" From a few seats away, Maya Fey stood up and waved enthusiastically. Phoenix grinned at her.

"Maya! You came!"

Maya shook her head. "Of course I came! You don't think I would miss something like this, do you? The great Phoenix Wright, live and in concert! Pearl hasn't stopped talking about it every since you called us last week!

From the seat next to Maya, Pearl Fey smiled sheepishly. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Nick. I can't wait to hear the beautiful music that I know you're going to make!"

Phoenix wasn't sure if he should be thrilled or horrified.

_I'm glad they're here, _he thought, _but…wait, hasn't Maya told Pearl what this is all about? She…does know not to expect very much, doesn't she? I hope she didn't get Pearls' hopes up…_

Phoenix let his eyes roam around the rest of the room. The few seats were filled with familiar faces, both from the life he'd left behind years ago and from the new life he'd begun after his badge had been revoked. Ema Skye was there, munching on snackoos and looking slightly bored in the second row. Detective Gumshoe was sitting right up front, engaged in a lively and animated conversation with this lady friend, Maggey Byrde. Even Klavier Gavin was there, and Phoenix was a little surprised to see him, of all people.

_After all, _he reminded himself, _I'm the reason his brother's been convicted of two murders. I've made his life…well, a little difficult, to put it mildly. Plus, he's a real musician. He's not here just to laugh at me, is he? Not that I'd blame him, really…_

Footsteps echoed against the ballroom floor, and behind Phoenix, someone coughed. Phoenix spun around to see a tall, grey-haired man wearing a vaguely frilly mauve-colored suit and a very dour expression on his face.

"Wright," muttered Miles Edgeworth. "It's…good to see you. It has been quite some time."

_What the…? Him? NO WAY. _Phoenix's mouth fell open and he gaped. Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, and Phoenix, trying not to panic, couldn't quite figure out what to say.

"Is something wrong?" asked Edgeworth mildly. "You seem…distressed. Are you feeling all right?"

Phoenix began to stammer. "But…you…why? Here? Why are you here?"

Instinctively he turned to look at Maya who grinned and announced, "I invited him! It's been so long, Nick…I thought you could do some catching up! Don't lie; I know you've missed him!"

Edgeworth shrugged. Phoenix felt sort of sick.

_It's…it's not that it's not nice to see him, _he thought desperately. _I mean, I guess he's a pretty decent guy, and all, but…I do NOT want Miles Edgeworth to hear this! He's the last person on the planet I wanted to see this morning! Jeez…_

For a split second, Phoenix seriously considered running for it. He'd already examined this room several times, and he knew that there were only two exits; the one backstage, and the door that led out into the main lobby.

_My best bet, _he decided, _is the backstage door. I can get onstage, take a bow, then dart backstage and escape before anybody's even figured out what's going on. Time's running out; I'd better run now and apologize later. I'll just-!_

Unfortunately for Phoenix, time had already run out for his escape plan. Before he'd even had a chance to make a break for the stage steps, Adrian Andrews clicked past him in her high-heels and took center stage, clasping her hands enthusiastically in front of her and beaming out over the sparse and meager assembly.

"Hello everyone," she called. "I'm so happy that you've all taken the time to join us today! We privileged few are here to witness the first ever live concert given by your and my favorite defense attorney, Phoenix Wright! I hear that he's been practicing and night for this very occasion, so let's give him a warm and enthusiastic welcome!"

She beamed, the audience applauded and cheered, and Phoenix wished he could melt into the floor.

_Right, _he decided. _This is absolutely nothing like playing at the Borscht Bowl Club, and it's nothing like being in court. This is awful. I am not, and will never be a performer. How the hell does Trucy do this? _

The applause died away, and again, everyone was watching him intently. Aware that he no longer had any alternatives, Phoenix took a deep breath, straightened himself up, and climbed the steps to the stage.

"Break a leg, Mr. Wright," whispered Adrian, hurrying out of his way.

_Why, _he wondered, _do stage people say 'break a leg?' I mean…I guess for a piano player it's not so bad. As long as I don't 'break a finger' we're probably still in business. Still…_

He sat down at the piano. The audience waited in hushed, expectant silence.

Despite his better judgment, Phoenix risked a look out into the crowd.

Sunlight was shining in through every window, highlighting and illuminating the encouraging and eager smiles on the faces of some of the people he'd known and trusted for so many years. Maya and Pearl looked radiant and thrilled. Gumshoe and Maggey smiled and clasped hands against the metal chair seats. Trucy was beaming with so much pride in her face that Phoenix thought she might burst Even Edgeworth didn't look completely miserable.

"You can do it, Daddy!" mouthed Trucy, pumping one fist in the air. Next to her, Apollo rolled his eyes. The sunlight glinted off of his bracelet, and off of the bracelet of Thalassa Gramarye sitting behind him.

_Okay, _thought Phoenix, steeling himself. _I can do this. She's right. Daddy can do it. I just…I just have to remember to perform exactly the way I practiced. No mistakes, no improvisations. Yeah, I've got this…sure. _

He lifted his hands and poised them over the piano keys. A few people in the crowd drew in sharp breaths.

_Here goes, _thought Phoenix, shutting his eyes, then remembering just in time to open them and focus on the ivories. _My debut performance as a real student of piano music…_

And so, he played, mouthing the words as he pressed down on the keys.

_Three blind mice…three blind mice…see how they run. See how they run…_

_E, D, C. E, D, C. C, D, E, C. C, D, E, C…._

From somewhere in the audience, Phoenix thought he heard a little snort of disbelief.

_Edgeworth, _he thought, picturing the surprise on his former rival's face. He grinned to himself, realizing that, yet again, he'd probably stupefied Miles Edgeworth into a stunned sort of horror.

"Yaaaay Daddy!" called Trucy, apparently unable to contain herself.

"Go Nick!" Maya was equally enthusiastic. "You've got it this time!"

The sunlight made the piano keys look like they were glittering, and even in the midst of what really should have been total mortification, Phoenix suddenly felt pretty good.

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **I selected "Shadow Days" by John Mayer as my first song for this story, pretty much at random. It was playing in the frozen yogurt place I was eating in when I came up with the idea for this story. That's…really the entire story behind how this chapter happened. Aheh…


	2. One: Do You Believe in Magic?

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and suggesting! I've got a few chapters, songs, and characters planned out, so please keep checking if you're waiting to see yours!

Also, feel free to submit more than once. I mean, you know, in case that wasn't clear already, or anything.

* * *

**Chapter One: Do You Believe in Magic?**

**(December 18, 2027)**

_**Hickfield Outpatient Clinic**_

_Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart?_

_How the music can free her whenever it starts?_

_And it's magic if the music is groovy_

_It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie_

_I'll tell you about the magic and it'll free your soul_

_But it's like trying to tell a stranger about rock and roll…_

Apollo Justice wasn't fine.

He was bored, and he was angry.

He was angry because he was useless, sitting here on this cot and waiting for the doctor to come back and check his vital signs for what must have been the seventh or eighth time that day. He was angry because there were things that he desperately needed to be doing, learning, seeing and finding out. The truth wasn't going to uncover itself, and the longer he waited cooped up in this little room, the more time the true culprit would have to get away. He was worried about Athena, but more importantly, he was terrified that if he lay here idly and let things take their course, he'd lose any chance of hunting down the criminal behind the death of Clay Terran.

He was also bored, and that didn't help, since it would have been wonderful if there had been something, anything to distract him from how miserable and impatient he was becoming. He didn't even have a book to read, or a newspaper, or anything to occupy his mind. He felt like he was going to explode.

_Enough of this, _he told himself, swinging his legs over the end of the bed and preparing to get shakily to his feet. _So what if I've had a little head injury? I'm fine. I've got this, and I'm leaving. I didn't even lose that much blood. I can be back on the case in no time, if only-!_

At that moment, however, the door to his room opened, and two people came in. One of them was Trucy Wright, dressed up in her favorite Gramarye silk hat and magician's outfit. The second was…

_Wait, what? _Apollo blinked. _What's he doing here?_

"Ah, Herr Forehead." Klavier Gavin grinned and gave Apollo a little wave. "Feeling beter, ja? That's good. Glad to see you're on your feet. The way the fraulein here was going on about your injuries, I feared the worst."

Trucy hurried over and gave Apollo a little squeeze. "Polly! You're okay! I was so worried! You look pretty good, though. Healthy, I mean. Um…"

She stopped, frowned, and gazed for a moment into Apollo's face. Apollo, uncomfortable under the intensity of her gaze, looked away, and fiddled with the bandage on his wrist.

"Actually," murmured Trucy thoughtfully, "you don't look so good after all. You look, um…kind of upset."

_That's one way to put it, _thought Apollo.

"Does it hurt anymore?" Trucy now sounded concerned. "Um, do you want me to get a doctor? Or, if you're not feeling like seeing anybody, Klavier and I can go away. I just thought you might want some company while you're healing up, that's all, but if you're not feeling up to it, then-!"

"No, please!" Apollo hurriedly cut her off. "I…I'm fine. I'm okay, really. It's just…kind of hard, being stuck in here until they tell me I'm fit enough to discharge. Uh…please, stay for a bit. I could use somebody to talk to."

"Oh, okay!" Trucy seemed relieved. "Well, that's great, because if there's one thing I can do, it's talk! Ooh, and I can do something else, too, if you want! I know what'll cheer you right up!"

_Please, _thought Apollo, _not Mr. Hat. Anything but Mr. Hat. _

"Do you want to see a trick?" asked Trucy predictably.

Apollo tried not to roll his eyes. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sure, that sounds like fun." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Klavier grinning at him. _I wonder how often Klavier's had to deal with "The Amazing Mr. Hat?" I bet he's seen it a hundred times, too…_

"Okay!" Trucy nodded. "Here goes!"

Apollo expected her favorite wooden companion to appear, but instead, Trucy reached a hand into her pocket, and pulled out a deck of cards. "Pick a card," she told him. "Any card!"

Apollo sighed, reached out, and was just about to pull a card off the top of the deck when Klavier shook his head.

"Aw, come on," said Klavier. "What's this? This isn't the way to get the crowd's pulse going. You have to hook them, and then reel them in. There has to be some…drama. Some suspense."

Trucy blinked. "Huh? But I just need to-!"

Without waiting for her to finish, Klavier reached behind him and pulled his guitar from where it had been slung across his back.

_What…? _Apollo stared. _Where'd that come from? Has he had that with him the whole time? _

"A real performance needs a powerful introduction," insisted Klavier, and, frowning thoughtfully down at the ground for a moment, he riffed off a series of almost-creepy, ominous sounding chords on the guitar. "Like that. There we go."

Trucy chewed on her lip, and then shook her head. "N-no…I mean, thanks, but…that sounds too gloomy. Magic's supposed to be exciting, not scary! I'm not gonna pull a vampire out of my hat, or anything. It's just a card trick, for fun!"

"Huh? Oh, well, yeah, I guess that's true." Apparently unfazed, Klavier nodded and then played a series of more major, upbeat sounding chords, ending in one triumphant, slightly discordant "twang."

This time, Trucy grinned. "Allright! That sounds more like magic!"

She looked expectantly at Apollo, and he dutifully selected the card from the top of the deck again. As Apollo picked up the card, Klavier rattled off a little, excited-sounding arpeggio.

"Now, don't show me your card," insisted Trucy. "Show it to Klavier, instead." She shut her eyes.

The card was the six of spades. Apollo showed it to Klavier, who smiled, nodded, and twanged on his guitar.

"Okay, all set?" Trucy opened her eyes again. "Now, I'm going to guess your card!" She glanced down at the deck, frowned, nodded sagely, and then said…"Okay! The card you chose was…the six of spades! Am I right? Huh? Ooh, I can see it in your face, I'm right. I'm so right! Ta-Dah!"

As Trucy gloated over her victory, Klavier played a triumphant chord on the guitar. Trucy gave him an appreciative little grin.

For a moment, Apollo was genuinely startled. Then, he sighed. "That whole deck's full of 'sixes of spades,' isn't it, Trucy? Are there any other cards in there at all?"

Trucy waggled a finger at him. "How many times do I have to tell you? A magician NEVER reveals her secrets!"

"Right, of course," mumbled Apollo, giving up. "Well, I guess it's a pretty cool trick, then, if you don't know how it's done."

"You're so gloomy, Herr Forehead," admonished Klavier. "The little fraulein is trying to make you feel better. If you keep up this negative attitude, you're just gonna make her cry, and we can't have that, now can we?"

"Oh, it's no problem," insisted Trucy. "Polly's always like this. You get used to it."

_Always like this? _Apollo frowned. _What's that supposed to mean? I can be fun, too…right?_

"You should probably lie down again," Trucy went on. "You need to rest your head. Don't worry, Klavier and I will stay for a little bit so that you don't get too lonely. We can even do some more tricks! I've got a great one that I KNOW you've never seen before! Klavier, can you play me that cool magic intro again?"

She turned to Klavier, who nodded, and strummed at his guitar. Trucy beamed at him.

"You know," she said, "we could really use some stuff like that in the Trucy Gramarye Magic Act down at the Wonder Bar! I mean, if you wanted to come and play along with some of my tricks, I bet we could be an even bigger hit than we are now! They do say that all music has a little bit of magic in it, after all…"

Klavier laughed. "I'm charmed by the invitation, of course, but I'm afraid that my appearance at your show might not have the effect you really want. After all, until very recently I was the headliner of the most famous rock-band in the country. I show up at your act, and heads will definitely turn…possibly away from you."

Apollo thought that was a pretty insulting thing to say, and he was just about to open his mouth to defend Trucy's honor when he realized that she didn't seem bothered at all.

"Hey, it'd be nice to draw in some of the 'rock and roll' crowd," she insisted. "And who says I can't be just as good at magic as you are at music? Have YOU ever seen my act, Klavier?"

Klavier was clearly at a loss. Apollo snickered. _He totally hasn't. _

"Ah, well…I'm afraid that I may be a bit too expensive for you to book," muttered Klavier hurriedly. "An artist has to eat too…I charge highly for my services."

"But, I'm a personal friend!" Trucy planted her hands on her hips and stared him down. "You couldn't make just one little guest appearance for a nice girl like me? And here I thought you were a gentleman…"

Klavier was at a loss. Trucy grinned at him.

Apollo couldn't help it. He started to laugh.

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **

This chapter was inspired by the song "Do You Believe in Magic," by "The Lovin' Spoonful!" Definitely a classic.

I hope this was apparent from the story itself, but this piece takes place in the middle of the **Turnabout Countdown** case that starts off the **Dual Destinies** game. I plan to have everything laid out in chronological order, so if you're confused about where something takes place in the storyline, go ahead and check the date right underneath the chapter title!


	3. Two: I Would Do Anything For Love

**Author's Note: **So, when writing a chapter about Detective Dick Gumshoe, I had to decide…what is Gumshoe's talent, exactly? He's not a musician, a magician, or a medium…he doesn't play poker or even dabble too much in forensics (he's an old-style police detective.) So, what is he good for?

Gumshoe is a good man. He's a good, honest, incorruptible man, and honestly I think that's his talent. He's simplistic, genuine, and sincere, even in the face of a hard job that doesn't yield too many rewards. He knows right from wrong and doesn't stray. Maybe that's one of the reasons we love him so much!

And so, without further ado…

* * *

**Two: I Would Do Anything for Love, But I Won't Do That**

**(April 18, 2027)**

_**Eldoon's Noodles**_

_I would do anything for love_

_I'd run right into hell and back_

_I would do anything for love _

_I'll never lie to you, and that's a fact_

_And I would do anything for love_

_But I won't do that_

_No, I won't do that_

Detective Dick Gumshoe was on his lunch break. He was standing in line outside Guy Eldoon's famous noodle cart, hungry as heck and imagining how delicious those incredibly salty noodles were going to taste after what had been, so far, a very long and grueling day of thankless legwork.

_I dunno, though, _he thought uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder into the streets behind him. _I mean…maybe I shouldn't be stopping for lunch. If the noodles get cold, that'll be one thing, but if I let this case get cold, I'll be in some serious trouble. That kid Bobby Fullbright's already got the higher-ups singing his praises for always being so "on top of things," and "enthusiastic" about the job. Any more mess-ups on my part, and I'll be out of a job to make way for a brighter future for Bobby Fullbright…_

It wasn't that Gumshoe didn't like Fullbright. Honestly, Gumshoe had no problem with the guy at all. Some days, he kinda liked Fullbright for being so full of the vim and energy that Gumshoe sort of imagined he'd once had, back in his younger and greener days on the force. On other days, though, Fullbright kind of annoyed him, and that just made him feel guilty and out of touch.

_The guy does his job too well, _he thought miserably. _I mean…nothing seems to faze him. Just once, I want to see him screw up and look like a dumbass. Not that I want him to feel too bad, or anything…I mean, everybody makes mistakes, right? That'll just, uh, help him get in touch with his more human side. Yeah. That's all. I just want what's best for the guy. _

Lost as he was in his own somewhat dubiously philanthropic thought process, it took Gumshoe a moment to realize that someone was trying to get his attention.

"Gumshoe. Hey, earth to Detective Gumshoe!" Someone behind him was calling his name.

"Yeah? What is it, pal?" He turned around, annoyed. "Look, if you've got a problem, I'm on my lunch break, so you'll need to find another-! Ack!"

He stopped and stared. Standing behind him and grinning was Phoenix Wright, former Ace Defense Attorney.

"Long time no see, huh," Wright was saying. "Funny running into you here, of all places."

Gumshoe grinned back. "Yeah, no kidding! I mean, I had no idea that you were a noodle kind of guy!"

"What can I say?" Wright shrugged. "Guy Eldoon's been a favorite of mine and Trucy's for years."

"Trucy? Uh…" Something about the name "Trucy" rang a bell for Gumshoe.

"She's my daughter," supplied Wright. "I think you guys have met a couple of times, actually."

With unpleasant clarity, it all came flooding back, and suddenly Gumshoe wasn't feeling so good about this sudden, surprise meeting.

_Oh…oh yeah, _he realized. _Trucy Wright…she's that little girl he adopted from Zak Gramarye after that trial eight years ago. Jeez…I'd almost forgotten all about that. And…doesn't look like he's wearing his attorney's badge anymore, so it's…I mean…I guess even after everything worked itself out, that was the end of that for Mr. Wright. _

Wright kept talking, apparently unperturbed, while Gumshoe brooded. "It was very nice of you and Maggey to come to my piano concert a few weeks ago," he remarked, still smiling. "I guess Maya must have called you?"

"Uh, yeah, she did. Yeah…" Gumshoe nodded glumly.

"I just wish," continued Wright, "that you two had stayed to talk. Some of us got dinner afterwards. We looked for you, but you'd already left." He laughed, and it was that same old slightly nervous laugh that Gumshoe had heard so many times during Wright's young attorney days. "I guess I can't really blame you. I mean…you were probably expecting something a little more impressive from a piano concert. Uh…Maya got a bit carried away with all the inviting."

Gumshoe shook his head hurriedly. "N-nah, I liked t," he insisted, maybe more forcefully than he needed to. "I mean…it was, uh, it was great to see you again, pal. You look good. You look, uh…"

Wright raised an eyebrow expectantly. Gumshoe's mouth had gone dry.

_You look older, _he thought. _So, I guess it really has been eight years. That's something, all right. Can't believe I let that happen. It didn't' feel like so long, but…_

Something in Wright's face changed, and suddenly he wasn't quite smiling anymore. Gumshoe realized that Wright had probably figured out just how uncomfortable Gumshoe was, and he quickly tried to compose his face again, to smile or to look like nothing was bothering him, but it was too late.

"Well, honestly, I'm not really in the mood for noodles today," said Wright, shrugging and giving Gumshoe a friendly little clap on the shoulder. "Just thought I'd stop by and say hello."

Gumshoe blinked. "Uh, uh, wait! You're not, uh…you're not out here on a case or anything, are you? Doing legwork?"

"Nope, not this time." Wright shook his head. "Didn't you hear? I'm not an attorney anymore. Now it's up to my two new partners to do the hard work. All I have to do is sit in the office and drink my coffee. Nice work, if you can get it."

He smiled, but it wasn't a totally genuine smile, and Gumshoe felt even worse. Now he wasn't in the mood for noodles either, and as Wright walked away, Gumshoe stood and watched him, feeling a lot of things that he hadn't bothered to tap into for a number of very long years.

_**Later, at the Wright Anything Agency…**_

That night after his shift was over, Gumshoe made his way over to the offices of the Wright Anything Agency. Luckily for him, the address hadn't changed. When he'd last been to that address, it had been the home of the "Wright and Co. Law Offices."

He half expected to find nobody there, since business hours were long over. When he knocked hesitantly on the door, though, it opened to reveal a slightly bored looking young woman in a magician's costume and a weirdly familiar silk hat.

"Oh, hello!" She perked up a little as soon as she saw him. "Are you here to display a talent?"

"A…talent?" Gumshoe blinked. "Wha…wait, do I have the right place?"

Almost instantly, the girl switched gears without batting an eyelash. "Oh, no, wait, then you must be in some kind of trouble," she decided, nodding sagely. "You need a lawyer, right? Well, you, sir have come to the Wright place!"

Before Gumshoe had a chance to object, the girl turned around and called over her shoulder, "Daddy! There's someone here who needs a lawyer!"

"Oh, really?" Wright's voice came back to them from somewhere inside the office and after a moment he appeared, smiling his professional smile. The smile faltered slightly when he saw Gumshoe, but only for a moment. "Well, Detective Gumshoe…don't' tell me you've finally been accused of murder. I guess it was bound to happen eventually. After all, they say the murderer always returns to the scene of the crime, and you do have a habit of showing up at crime scenes."

He laughed, and the girl laughed with him, even though Gumshoe wasn't sure what exactly was supposed to be so funny.

"Uh…n-nah, it's nothing like that," Gumshoe stammered. "I'm not in trouble, or nothing, I just…um. Hey, can I…can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure thing." Wright nodded, then turned to the girl. "Trucy, aren't you supposed to be studying?"

Trucy groaned. "Dad…I've been at it for HOURS. Can't I take a break?"

"Well…" Wright thought about that for a moment. "Okay, sure. You can have a twenty minute recess, but when we reconvene in twenty minutes, I expect you to have a very solid understanding of the facts. Got that? I'm gonna quiz you, and we're going to start with history, so don't waste your break."

Grumbling, Trucy disappeared back into the offices, leaving Wright and Gumshoe alone.

As soon as Trucy had gone, something about Wright's eyes softened a little, and wasn't playing the jovial dad anymore. He reminded Gumshoe much more now of the old Phoenix Wright.

"So," he asked. "What's up? Something wrong? Isn't it usually the other way around? I've always been the one consulting you when there's a problem."

Gumshoe shook his head." Nah, it's not…it's not a problem. I mean, it's not like a case, or anything, and I don't need a lawyer.I just…"

He stumbled, stopped, and looked desperately at Wright, who was still gazing patiently at him, waiting for whatever confession was forthcoming.

_Still the same old Phoenix Wright, _thought Gumshoe. _Lawyer or not, there's something about the guy that just makes you want to spill the beans._

"Hey,," Gumshoe mumbled, shuffling uncomfortably and pulling his coat a little tighter over his shoulders. "Listen, pal, uh…I haven't really treated you so good, have I?"

Wright just raised an eyebrow."I don't know what you mean."

"Well…uh…" Taking a deep breath, Gumshoe tried to behave like the competent Detective that he knew he'd always wanted to be. "You know, all those years ago, at that trial…when they said you were the one who'd had that forged evidence made on purpose, and that you were a lousy lying rat of a lawyer-!"

Wright winced. "They said that? that last part, about the rat?" He sighed. "Figures."

"Uh…y-yeah, well, anyway," muttered Gumshoe. "I mean…I knew you didn't do it. Sure, you presented the evidence, but I knew you weren't the kind of guy who'd ever do something sleazy like that on purpose. I figured you…you must have made a mistake, or something, or somebody must have framed you, or…I dunno, it was probably just all some kind of big misunderstanding."

Wright nodded. "Thank you."

For some reason, that 'thank you,' didn't make Gumshoe feel any better. "And," he went on quickly, "you know, I testified at that trial, and all."

"Not against me," murmured Wright.

"Nah, not against you, pal," agreed Gumshoe, "but, uh, anyway, even if it wasn't against you, I still…I kinda feel like I helped put the nail in the coffin. Maybe if I hadn't given evidence, maybe it all would have fallen through and you'd never have had to go through all of that stuff with the forgery, and…and maybe you'd still have your badge. Or, you know, maybe if I'd said something then, or spoken up, you wouldn't' have-!"

He stopped and trailed off, Wright didn't seem to be looking at him. Instead, he was gazing at the half-open door to his office.

"You were just doing your job, Detective," insisted Wright quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Gumshoe nodded uncertainly. "Y-yeah, of course I was. But I mean…I said all that stuff, about how I was gonna get you this time, and about how this was gonna be the day that I won and you lost, and…and…uh…well, I sure wanted to win that case, but I never thought it'd turn out the way it did. I wasn't, uh…it's not like I was happy about what happened to you. I didn't…I mean…you and I, we're sorta…"

Again, he faltered, and Wright had to pick up where he left off.

"We're sort of 'friends,' aren't we, Detective? Is that what you were going to say?"

Miserably, Gumshoe nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is. I guess that's what I meant, but…I'm some kind of terrible friend, huh, pal?"

He slumped his shoulders, unsure what else there was to say, but Wright, still perfectly calm, just shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. You're not a bad friend. You're just an honest man. You did what you had to do, that's all. I can't fault you for that, and I don't. The evidence wasn't in my favor. There was nothing you could have done."

For a moment, the two of them stood there on the steps of the Agency in silence, listening to the sounds of local vendors and shops closing up for the night.

"Hey, Gumshoe," said Wright eventually. "Thanks for coming by. I appreciate it."

"Y-yeah," mumbled Gumshoe. "Well, hey, I mean, you're welcome. Any time, pal."

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note:**

This piece was inspired by "I Would Do Anything for Love, But I Won't Do That," by Meatloaf.

I LOVED getting a chance to write about Gumshoe.

However, I just voluntarily listened to a Meatloaf song like sixteen times while writing this.

It will be stuck in my head forever.

I think I need to go lie down…


	4. Three: Fix You

**Author's Note: **So, I have many more chapters to write based on a lot of other songs, but I'm taking a quick break from my song list to write one chapter purely for myself.

See, as of today, I have been a survivor of Traumatic Brain Injury for exactly nine years. I don't really do anything to celebrate anymore, because that would be a little weird, after so many years, but I still think about how things might have been different if that day had never happened. I wonder who I would have been, and if I would have liked that person better or worse than who I am now.

This is a little story, based on one of my favorite songs, just inspired by what I've been thinking about today.

* * *

**Three: Fix You**

**(February 12, 2028)**

_**Detention Center**_

_And the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone but it goes to waste_

_Could it be worse_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

At nine o'clock AM on February 12, the man formerly known as Prosecutor Godot was released from prison, having spent the last nine years doing hard time.

_But, _he reminded himself as the prison guards opened the gates, _hey, it could have been worse. _

Shortly after the conclusive sentencing of Sister Iris, Godot himself had been accused of the same murder for which Iris had been found "Not Guilty." The police had really needed to make some emergency preparations to arrange for a new prosecutor on such short notice, but circumstances had been such that Fransizka von Karma was more than willing to serve.

She'd been delighted to prosecute, because the day after Iris' trial, Phoenix Wright had showed up at Godot's holding cell, to demand that Godot allow him to defend.

Of course, at first, Godot had refused. After all, he was ready to be convicted. There was, he'd insisted, nothing left for him in this world, and he was ready to face the bitterness of fate head-on.

It had been Maya Fey who hadn't been willing to take no for an answer, and as she'd stood there, staring both of them down with her hands on her hips and her tongue between her teeth, Wright had insisted, cajoled, demanded and pleaded for Godot to accept him as a defense attorney. In the end, Godot had really felt sorry for the guy. After all, it didn't look like Maya was going to give Wright any peace if he didn't take the case, and so Godot had agreed, assuming that it was all futile, especially since he'd already pretty much confessed to the murder.

Much to Godot's surprise, Wright had shown a lot of sense about the whole thing. Rather than attempting to get a "Not Guilty" verdict, he'd gone straight for a verdict of "Justifiable Homicide," based on the claim that Godot had murdered Misty Fey in a desperate attempt to save Maya Fey's life. The judge had bought it, and that day Godot had left the court in handcuffs, headed not for Death Row, but for nine years of solitary.

Just as he'd been ushered into the police transport, Godot had glanced over his shoulder to see Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey watching him. Wright had waved, and Maya had even smiled. Something strange, warm, and foreign had come over Godot then. While driving away, he kept picturing Wright's crossed arms and the confident look on his face, and the passionate, determined light in Maya's eyes the way they'd looked at the end of the trial, during the final cross examination.

When it was all over, he'd been left in darkness, just the way he'd expected, but for the very first time that Godot could remember, there was a ray of light shining through that darkness that came from somewhere deep inside him.

He'd felt something like it a long time before, in another life which belonged to a man named "Diego Armando," and not to the blinded monster that Godot had allowed himself to become.

It was a ray of light called 'hope,' and its little, persistent spark in the darkness of his soul made his nine years of imprisonment somehow both easier and harder at the very some time. At long last, there was, just maybe, something to look forward to. It had been a very long time since Godot had risked looking forward.

During the years of solitary, Godot wasn't allowed to retain his mask. The prison warden made a big stink about how "prisoners weren't permitted to hide their faces," due to "various regulations" that Godot was half certain were made up. The truth was that masks, shields and covers frightened the guards, just as most people are terrified of anything they can't see and fully understand.

Godot didn't mind. He didn't need the mask. In the darkness of the cell, there was nothing to see anyway. Anything worth seeing came from that little bit of hope, and he didn't need any kind of mask or visor to find that. He embraced the darkness, and the darkness embraced him, and he waited calmly, on his very best behavior, until the very last day of those long nine years.

When the day of release did finally come, therefore, he stepped back out into a world he couldn't see, felt the warm sun on his face and the wind in his hair. The warden returned his visor to him, of course, along with the rest of the clothes and personal belongings he'd been allowed in prison, but Godot never did put the visor back on.

It was time, now, he felt, to see the world with new eyes and to feel the world with a brand new face; a face which belonged neither to Diego Armando nor to Prosecutor Godot, but to a man who had twice survived the fires of hell and had returned to the world of the living for one last, rare third chance at redemption. The things he needed to focus on now were the pockets of unexplored feeling, doubt, and irrational fear that lay deep within him. No specially-made masks or visors would ever be able to help him penetrate those darkest of places.

"Hey, Mr. Armando!" As he walked across the grounds of the prison, out towards the transport parking lot, a familiar voice called to him, and he heard the sound of footsteps pounding across the grounds in his direction. "I made it! I wasn't late after all!"

For just a split second, he was certain that it was Mia. The timbre of the voice, the inflections, everything that belonged to the voice belonged to Mia. After a moment, though, reality re-asserted himself, and he smiled, as Maya Fey reached him and placed her hand on his shoulder, presumably o help guide him.

He didn't need the guiding hand, but he didn't brush her away, either. After eight years, the physical contact was jarring, fresh, and surprisingly welcome.

"Oh, your mask!" Maya sounded worried. "Didn't you get it back? Do you need me to talk to the guards?"

Godot shrugged, and shook his head. "Nah, don't bother. Pretty sure I won't be needing that thing again. After all…that mask belonged to somebody else; somebody named Godot. Doesn't mean anything to me, now."

"Uh…huh? Oh, uh, okay." Confused, Maya paused for a moment, and then Godot thought he felt her shrug. "Well, if you say so! So, are you ready to go? Nicks' back at the office, but he says he'll wait for us there. He's cleaning the toilets again. Maybe that's his way of sprucing the place up to welcome you home!"

"Home?" Godot frowned. "Can't say I've ever spent much time at your offices. Can hardly call that 'home.'"

"Yeah," insisted Maya, "but I mean, you used to be Mia's partner, and you never got disbarred or anything, so the way I see it you're technically still a part of our firm, aren't you? It makes sense. You trained Mia, and Mia trained Nick, and Nick is training some new guys, now! It's just one big growing family tree! Come on, I'll introduce you!"

_Home, huh? _Godot mused about that all the way back to Maya's car. _Not sure that's entirely fair. Besides, what are a couple of young new attorneys going to think about the arrival of a convicted murderer? Well, nah, not a murder, but a killer, anyway. Anyway you pour it, I'm not an innocent man. Still, for the first time, I feel like I'm walking around without a guilty conscience. Maybe if she can forgive me, then…maybe that really means it's over. Maybe that means it's time to think about forgiving myself._

He listened thoughtfully as Maya prattled on about this, that, and various other things related to the Wright Anything Agency. She told him about how she'd quit working there in order to take up the mantle of the head of the Fey Clan, and about how she frequently visited Phoenix Wright and his adopted daughter Trucy just to make sure that both of them were taking care of themselves and the offices properly.

"And I think," she went on, "that you'll really like these new guys! They're super-talented, and they've both got this pretty amazing powers, which in my book means they fit in just fine. I mean, I'm a spirit medium, and people make fun of my powers all the time, so it's not like I'm gonna downplay or laugh at the amazing stuff these two can do, right?"

"Hmm," agreed Godot, noncommittally.

"Oh, uh, that reminds me." Maya paused, and Godot could hear the frown in her voice. "Um…what do you want me to call you? If I'm gonna introduce you, you need to pick a name. Do you want to be 'Diego Armando,' or 'Prosecutor Godot?' It doesn't matter to me which one you go for, really, but I want to make sure I get it right."

"Neither," mumbled Godot. "I don't think I'm either of those people anymore."

"Oh, uh, yeah?" Maya waited expectantly, but for a long moment, Godot didn't say anything else.

"Yeah," he agreed finally. "Truth is…maybe I don't know who I am, now. I don't belong to either of those names. After all, this is the second time I've returned from the dead."

Maya made an annoyed little clicking sound in her throat. "Being in prison isn't the same as being dead," she informed him matter-of-factly. "And you have to stop saying stuff like that. No more of this 'back from hell' or 'death's justice' stuff, okay? If you're still not sure who you want to be, then let's go and figure it out. I think you've wasted way too much trying not to be someone you used to be. Let's stop wasting time and focus on figuring out who you DO want to be, okay?"

Godot opened his mouth, but found that he didn't have a very good argument for that one.

He'd always had a hard time contradicting the Fey women. There was something fiery about Maya that he'd seen so many times in Mia. It made him smile.

"Sure," he said. "Living, huh? All right. Sounds like fun. Let's do it."

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Okay, so this was a huge chronological jump, and I do apologize. Still…after writing this, I feel pretty good. Thanks for indulging me.

This piece was inspired by Coldplay's "Fix You."

And now, we return to your regularly scheduled programming.


	5. Four-1: A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note: **This one is going to be a two-part story! I'm going to write it in two segments, and that may take me longer than one day, but let's see how it goes.

Thanks to everyone who is being patient. I'll try to have as many chapters up as I can very soon!

* * *

**Four -1: A Matter of Trust**

**January 2, 2027**

_**The Wright Anything Agency**_

_You can't go the distance_

_With too much resistance_

_I know you have doubts_

_But for God's sake, don't shut me out_

_This time you've got nothing to lose_

_You can take it, you can leave it_

_Whatever you choose_

_I won't hold back anything_

_So break my heart if you must_

_It's just a matter of trust_

It was one of those terrifically late nights at the Wright Anything Agency when time seemed to have somehow sped up. Every time Apollo looked up at the clock, another hour seemed to have slipped by without his noticing, and before he knew it midnight had already come

Luckily for him, he'd just barely managed to finish his notes for tomorrow's trial, based on the investigation he'd completed only a few hours before. Triumphant but exhausted, he packed up his things, wiped the weariness out of his eyes, and was just making a bee-line for the door when he thought he saw a light on in Mr. Wright's private office.

"Uh…hello?" Startled, he put his stuff back down and cautiously made his way towards the door.

_There's no way Mr. Wright's still here, right? I mean...he definitely went home hours ago. I'm pretty sure I heard him leave. If there are thieves in there trying to find some evidence in his papers, then I'm in huge trouble. Where'd we put that baseball bat that we keep for moments like these? Aw, man, and where's Athena when you need her? She'd probably be better in this kind of situation…_

Taking a deep breath, Apollo steeled himself, planted his feet, and then pulled the door open with a bang, shouting at the top of his chords of steel, "WHO'S THERE? SHOW YOURSELF!"

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Apollo realized he had his eyes squeezed shut, and he hesitantly opened them to see Mr. Wright gazing at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh!" Apollo blinked. "Uh…Mr. Wright! You're still here! I, um…"

Mr. Wright nodded slowly. "Well, yes, Apollo…I mean, this is my office. Is there…something I can do for you?" He winced, and rubbed at his left temple with one finger. "And, if you could ask me quietly, please, I'd appreciate it. No need to shout."

"S-sorry." Apollo felt like an idiot. "I, uh, I just thought you'd already gone home, so…I figured there was some other reason for the light to be on in here. So, when I came in, I was all ready to-!"

"Ah." Mr. Wright sighed, then gave Apollo a wry little smile. "I see. Well, in that case, I have to at least commend your enthusiasm."

Somehow, Apollo still felt like he was being gently admonished. Desperate for some way to deflect the focus away from his stupid blunder, he blurted out, "So, you, uh, working late? Got a tough case to crack, or…something?"

"Something like that." Mr. Wright frowned at the horribly mangled mass of papers on his desk.

_Wow, _thought Apollo belatedly. _This place is really a pigsty. I mean, I know the guy's no organizational genius, but how does he even work in here? You can pretty much wade through the stacks and mounds of paper on the floor…_

Mr. Wright gestured with one hand at the stuff on his desk. "A tough case? Well, yes, you could say that. I take it you're having a similar problem? I can't imagine any other reason you'd still be here at this hour."

"Y-yeah. Well…" Apollo shrugged. "I was, anyway, until just now. Had a lot of stuff to type up for tomorrow, but thankfully it's all done now!" He grinned. "I'm gonna be fine after all!"

Mr. Wright grinned back. "Of course you are. Never doubted it."

_He really does sound tired, _thought Apollo unhappily, his eyes again straying to the littered desk. Mr. Wright seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"So…if you want," began Apollo slowly, "I could probably stick around and help you sort through this stuff. You know, just so you can make it home by a reasonable hour."

Again, Mr. Wright smiled, but shook his head. "I'm afraid it's a little late for that. There's no more hope for my bedtime. Thanks, though. It's a nice gesture."

_Yeah, that's easy to say, _thought Apollo, frowning, _but how are you going to manage in court tomorrow if you don't get any sleep? Passing out behind the defense's bench doesn't make for a very convincing argument._

"Come on," he insisted, "let me help you. We can get this done faster between the two of us."

This time, Mr. Wright didn't even look up from his papers. "Thank you, but I'll be just fine."

For some reason, Apollo felt annoyed. _What's the big deal? He obviously needs a hand with this stuff. How come he can't just admit it? What is it, too much for his pride, or something? Jeez…_

"Mr. Wright." Apollo did his best to sound cheerful and not irritated. "We're a team, aren't we? We're supposed to help each other with this kind of thing."

"It'd take a long time for me to fill you in on all the details," retorted Mr. Wright."I'm sorry, but I'd really prefer if you left me alone to figure it out. I know that you're trying to do me a favor, Apollo, but really, I just need some time."

_Right. Okay. _Apollo knew it was time to smile, nod, turn around and walk out. The smart thing to do would be to take this own advice, head for home, and get some much-needed sleep. After all, if Mr. Wright said he was fine, then he was probably just fine.

_Still…_ He grimaced, shook his head, and found that he wasn't able to just walk away. "Please," he said, maybe a bit more forcefully than was necessary, "let me help you."

Mr. Wright raised an eyebrow. "Why do you want to help me with my work so badly? I don't understand. I've already told you that I don't need the assistance."

Apollo shook his head. "Why are you so sure I can't do it?"

"I never said that you couldn't do it." Mr. Wright was starting to look just as annoyed as Apollo felt. "It's just that I have everything under control."

"No," countered Apollo, "You don't. I mean, you're obviously exhausted. It's after midnight. Why won't you just-?"

"Apollo," muttered Mr. Wright warningly. "Let it go."

Apollo, however, was way past the point of letting it go. Slamming both hands down on the edge of Mr. Wright's desk, he demanded, "Just let me do this! Please!"

Apollo's voice reverberated around the little office for what felt like a full few seconds. Mr. Wright opened his mouth in surprise, shut it again, took a deep breath, and then asked, very quietly, "Apollo, what's going on with you? What's this about, really?"

_You know perfectly well what it's really 'about,' _thought Apollo angrily. He was angry at Mr. Wright for being so pigheaded, and he was angry at himself for making a scene in his employer's office in the middle of the night. Mr. Wright was now watching him quietly, his papers forgotten, and Apollo felt his annoyance rising more and more with each second. _How the hell can he be so calm about this? Nobody stays that calm when someone's banging on his desk, or getting up in his face. What is wrong with this guy?_

"Sit down," suggested Mr. Wright.

Without thinking about it, Apollo sat down in a chair just opposite the desk.

"Good." Mr. Wright nodded. "Now, let's have it. What's gotten into you?"

_How should I know? _Apollo shrugged. _Maybe I'm just tired. After all, it is pretty late…_

That, however, wasn't it, and Apollo knew it. He didn't really have to think too hard to identify the source of his frustration. It had been building for a long time, and this episode was just one more in a long string of annoying reminders that he and his boss had never quite come to terms with this particular issue.

"I want you to trust me," he told Mr. Wright.

Mr. Wright frowned. "Apollo, I do trust you. Of course I-!"

"No, you don't," interrupted Apollo, forcing himself to keep his voice down. "You say you do, but you don't. Sure, I'm a 'valuable member' of your legal team. I think you respect some of the skills I have, definitely, but you don't trust me. You never tell me anything unless I absolutely need to know about it. You never let me in on the work that you're doing unless it just happens that we get thrown together defending the same client. Everything with you is one big secret. Why? What do I have to do to prove to make you let me in on what's really going on?"

"What's really going on?" Mr. Wright shook his head. "Apollo, nothing's 'going on.' There's nothing to tell you about. It's not unusual for a lawyer to keep his work to himself. It's not a question of trust. Really, it's professional ethics. My client expects a certain level of confidentiality from me, and I do my best to provide that in every possible way."

Apollo, however, was not impressed. _But it is a question of trust, _he thought angrily. _It's always been about trust. Maybe you don't realize it now, but ever since the very first case we worked on, we've been playing this game. I can't take it anymore. We're supposed to be working together. _

"You're thinking of that case from last year, aren't you?" Mr. Wright sighed. "Or maybe about what happened eight years ago…or both. Is that what this is all about? You're still angry at me for keeping you in the dark?"

"No, of course not," muttered Apollo. _Yeah, _he thought. _Yeah, about that…_

Mr. Wright stood up from his desk, stretched, and took a deep breath. Then he pulled his chair out from behind the desk, came around, and sat across from Apollo, folding his hands in his lap. "Alright," he said. "Well, if you'd like to talk about that case, then I think maybe it's time."

On one hand, Apollo felt like he was being condescended to. _If I want to 'talk about it?' What kind of psychiatric crap is that? This isn't a shrink's office, and I'm not gonna let him treat me like a little kid. _

At the same time, however, this was his chance to finally quell all the horrible little doubts and angry moments he'd been having ever since he'd begun working for the Wright Anything Agency. There were a lot of questions he'd never asked.

"Why," he asked, "didn't you ever tell me the truth about Vera Misham's forgery all those years ago?"

Mr. Wright didn't bat an eye. "I did tell you the truth," he insisted. "Right before that trial of the jurist system a year ago, I told you everything. You can't think I'm still holding anything back."

_No, _thought Apollo, _no, that's not it. _He shook his head. "I'm asking you why you never told me everything in the first place. I was your defense attorney, and you were my client. Yours was the very first case that I ever defended on my own. I wanted so desperately to believe in you; to believe that you'd never have done any of the things they said you did."

A wry smile suddenly appeared on Mr. Wright's face. "I didn't kill anyone," he insisted. "You knew that from the start, I hope."

Apollo waved that away with one hand. "Of course I did. But-!"

"But," interrupted Mr. Wright, "for a while there, you weren't really sure if I'd forged that missing diary page or not, all those years ago. You'd heard the rumors, and you thought maybe, just maybe I'd actually done it. Isn't that right?"

For some reason, Mr. Wright looked a little bit sad, even though he was still smiling. Apollo found himself wishing he'd never said anything.

_No, _he reminded himself. _I'm not wrong. I'm fine. Anyway, he could have made me believe him right from the start, if he'd only shown me the evidence! He's the one to blame here, not me! I don't have to feel guilty!_

"I wanted to believe you," he informed Mr. Wright. "I really did. You were my hero for the longest time, and all I wanted was to be sure that you were innocent of the forgery. It would have been so easy to make met trust you. All you had to do was to tell me the truth from the start and to prove to me that you hadn't done it! You could have proven it, but you didn't'. You could have been honest with me, but you weren't. What was I supposed to do? Of course I had my doubts, and I hated that, but that's just the way it is."

Slowly, still with that sad little smile, Mr. Wright nodded. "And that," he murmured, "is exactly why I wasn't ready to trust you."

Apollo blinked. "H-huh? Wait, what? But I just told you that I-!"

"That's not how it works," Mr. Wright admonished him. "A client doesn't have to earn our trust. Your duty as a defense attorney is to place your trust in your client, even if that client can't or won't be completely frank. It's that special relationship we have with our clients that makes us who we are. Without that, we're no better than either of the Mr. Paynes. Do you see what I'm saying?

Apollo stared.

Mr. Wright sighed. "I see that you don't. Ah, well. It'll come."

With that, he stood up, picked up his chair, and moved it back around to the other side of his desk. Apollo, not sure if their little 'talk' was over or not, watched speechlessly as Mr. Wright prepared to return to his desk full of papers.

"The reason I was never open with you," said Mr. Wright, 'is because I wanted to feel that connection between lawyer and client. I wanted us to have that trust, but I knew that for you, it wasn't there. You weren't ready to fully believe in me, even though in many ways I've always believed in you. Someday I think you'll get what I'm talking about. I don't need you to understand it right now. You've got time."

"But…wait!" Apollo shook his head "No, you know that's not true! Besides, it's not fair to ask someone to believe in you if you've never even-!"

"You'll be in court tomorrow too, won't you?" interrupted Mr. Wright as though Apollo had never even spoken. "In that case, I think it's best that you take your own advice, and go home to get some sleep. After all, it's already after midnight."

"Uh," began Apollo. "but…Mr. Wright-!"

"Goodnight, Apollo." Mr. Wright was already focused on his paperwork again. "I'll be excited to hear about how things go tomorrow at the trial."

That was a very clear dismissal, and as much as Apollo wanted to insist on having his say, it was clear that Mr. Wright wasn't going to listen to any more. Raging inside, he sat for a few seconds longer staring at his mentor, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Then, without a word, he stood up, stormed out of the office, and headed for home, aware that even if he did get to bed soon, it would probably be a long and rather sleepless night.

* * *

**Author's End Note: **So…which of them was right and which was wrong? Any thoughts?

This chapter was inspired by the song "A Matter of Trust' by Billy Joel. Billy Joel is one of my all-time absolutely favorites. This was a treat for me to write!


	6. Four-2: An Innocent Man

**Author's Note: **And so, here we have the second part of our "Matter of Trust" story!

* * *

**Four-2: An Innocent Man**

**(January 2, 2027)**

_**The Wright Anything Agency**_

_I know you don't want to hear what I say_

_I know you're gonna keep turning away_

_But I've been there and I can survive_

_I can keep you alive_

_I'm not above going through it again_

_I'm not above being cool for a while_

_If you're cruel to me, I understand_

_Some people run from a possible fight_

_Some people figure they can never win_

_And although this is a fight I can lose_

_The accused is an innocent man_

A few minutes after Apollo stormed out of the office, Phoenix Wright was still sitting at his desk, staring at his papers, but not really seeing any of them.

_That could have gone better, _he thought unhappily. _I've known it was coming, of course, but…I don't know. Was I too hard on him? I wish there was a way I could make him understand. _

Suddenly, he felt like maybe he really was too tired to tackle any more of this case tonight. Somehow, the confrontation with Apollo had sapped what was left of his emotional and intellectual strength, and despite his assurances to Apollo, trying to concentrate now was probably a lost cause.

"Agh," mumbled Phoenix, running his hands distractedly through his hair. For just a moment, he let himself close his eyes, certain that if he could just rest for a few moments, he'd be able to continue.

"Daddy?" The half-open door to Phoenix's office creaked open a little farther, and when Phoenix looked up, he found Trucy watching him with concern in her eyes.

"Wha-? Trucy?" Phoenix blinked, and sat up straighter in his chair. "You shouldn't be here. It's late. Why aren't you at home sleeping?"

Trucy pointed an accusing finger at him, in a gesture that he recognized all too well. "I could be asking you the same question. You look terrible!"

"Thanks," muttered Phoenix, sighing. _It's true, I probably do look like a mess. If only Apollo hadn't come at me like that. Any other time would have better for that conversation…_

"I made you some cookies," said Trucy, producing a tray of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies from somewhere in the depths of her magic panties. "Go on, take one."

"Thank you," murmured Phoenix, "but I'm not really hungry."

Trucy laid the cookies down on the desk, planted both hands on her hips and glared at him. "Daddy, when was the last time you ate anything? I bet you skipped lunch today, and dinner too. You always do when you're in the middle of a big case! Miss Maya told me that, and she's right! I've seen you do it!"

Phoenix had a hard time arguing with that one. _It's true that I haven't eaten since breakfast. There just hasn't been a lot of time, that's all. I've gotta get this done…_

"You have to take better care of yourself," Trucy was saying. "If you don't, then…what are Apollo, and Athena and I supposed to do without you?"

She was teasing him, of course, but there was just a little hint of genuine alarm in Trucy's voice that got through to Phoenix. Without any more protestations, he reached out, took a cookie, and bit into it.

_Uh, wow, _he thought, _this is really badly burnt. Come to think of it, where did Trucy even learn to bake cookies? Did she teach herself, or…? I mean, I can't cook, or bake, or do anything with food except eat it. I wonder If maybe I should enroll her in some cooking classes…_

Apparently either unaware of or unfazed by the crispy state of the cookies, Trucy also took one and at it, seating herself across from Phoenix's desk in the chair that Apollo had so recently occupied. For a moment, the two of them sat in peaceful silence, enjoying their treats.

"This is nice, Trucy," said Phoenix, after he'd devoured a second cookie. "Thank you. I needed this more than I realized."

Trucy nodded and smiled, but she looked like she was thinking about something else. "You know," she mused, drumming her fingers on the desktop and staring thoughtfully at the armrest of her chair, "I don't really think what you said to Apollo was right, Daddy."

Phoenix winced. "Oh…so you heard that. I…I didn't know."

"Well, yeah…I mean, I heard a lot of it," replied Trucy. "But it wasn't really true, was it? I mean, the part about how you couldn't trust him because he didn't really trust you? That's not exactly what happened at all. What you said to him…well, it was sort of hypocritical, don't you think?"

Phoenix blinked. "What...? Hypocritical? What do you mean?"

Trucy frowned. "You kept saying that Apollo didn't trust you, but…he's not really the one who didn't trust you. The person who mistrusted you the most was…YOU!" Again, she pointed accusingly at her father. "You're the real guilty party, here, Daddy."

"Ah…objection." Phoenix cleared his throat of cookie, and shook his head at her. "Your argument there doesn't make any sense. Why wouldn't I trust myself? I'd like to think I know myself pretty well."

Trucy waved an admonishing finger at him.

Phoenix blinked. _Where the heck did she pick that gesture up? I think maybe Trucy needs to spend less time with my friends…_

"You were so angry with yourself when you lost your attorney's badge," continued Trucy. "You were…SO angry, and so sad. Honestly, sometimes I felt like you were a totally different person, back then, because maybe you felt like you were a totally different person inside. You were scared, too, and confused, and you hated yourself, too, because you felt like you were letting everybody else down."

"Trucy…" Phoenix sighed. "I know that Athena's psychoanalytic tricks are very useful, but I'm your father, and that kind of stuff isn't going to work here with me."

"I have evidence!" Trucy glared at him. "Don't you remember? You used to say stuff to me all the time about how you were sorry that you'd let my other Daddy down, and how my life would have been so much better if you'd only been able to get him a Not Guilty verdict. You said other stuff, too, about how if you'd still had your attorney's badge you could have sent me to a nicer school, or bought me nicer clothes, and that you'd always be a sort of second-rate Daddy because you wouldn't ever be able to get me the nice things that pre-teen girls are supposed to want. Remember? You said that!"

_Yeah, well, I did say that, _thought Phoenix. _I was right, though. We were always broke, and it was because I wasn't really working. I mean, sure, I had the gig at the club, but that paid peanuts to compared to the salary I used to get a lawyer. She could have had a nicer life. _

"Other kids used to point and whisper about you," countered Phoenix. "We would overhear them on the street or at Eldoon's noodles, gossiping about how your father was the 'dirty defense attorney' who'd fabricated that evidence. Other parents wouldn't let you go over to play with their kids."

Trucy shrugged. "Yeah, but I didn't care. I mean, I was too busy with my magic show to go over and play at anyone's house anyway, and besides." She slammed one of her fists into the other and gave Phoenix a very defiant sort of look. "It made me angry, listening to the way they talked about you, because I knew how stupid and wrong they were! You're a good man, and a good Daddy, and you always have been! Why would I want to hang out with any kids who would make fun of me for living with someone great like you, anyway?"

Phoenix rubbed at his right temple, feeling a migraine coming on. Trucy, noticing the gesture, lowered her voice a little.

"The only person who was really ever upset with you for losing your badge," she continued, quietly but still with a great deal of conviction, "was YOU, daddy!"

Again, she pointed the finger at him.

_I definitely need to stop bringing her to watch my court cases, _decided Phoenix.

"If what you're saying is accurate," began Phoenix wearily, playing along really for lack of a better option, "then you must be making the argument that my behavior towards Apollo stems from some kind of deep-seeded self loathing and personal doubt. I'm afraid that argument doesn't hold much water. After all, I'd hardly start my own agency, re-take the bar exam and return to the life of a defense attorney if I was really so uncertain of myself, now would I? The person you're describing wouldn't act the way I have for the last year and a half."

"I don't think that's right," countered Trucy almost immediately. "See, you have to look at it from uh…what is it you always so? Oh, a different angle!" She nodded. "Anyway, this is the way I see it. You did go back into law, ad you did re-start the Agency, and I've always been super proud of you for that! You did it, though, because you wanted to prove to yourself that you COULD do it! You needed to believe that you were still the lawyer you'd always dreamed of being, and so you started doing everything you could to show yourself that you still had what it took. That's why Apollo's always so mad at you, too! You never let him get involved in your cases, because you just HAVE to make sure that you can handle it yourself. If you let someone else step in and help you with a case, that'd mean you weren't really an 'ace attorney' again, right?"

Phoenix stared. "Uh, wait, hang on," he began, feeling the tables starting to turn on him.

Trucy, however, wasn't finished. "You're always willing to help the others with their work, though, because you want them both to succeed. You only help when they ask you, though. It's not like you step in and lean over their shoulders all the time to see what they're doing. You trust them just fine, right? It's YOU that you have a problem with."

Apparently feeling that she'd successfully made her case, Trucy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms triumphantly over her chest.

"Ah…argh." Phoenix's temple was now throbbing violently. "That…that's not it at all." A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"So, you see," murmured Trucy, a little more gently, "what you said to Apollo just now wasn't true at all. None of it ever had anything to do with you not trusting him. You should have just told him that. Then he wouldn't have gotten so angry. Now you're going to have to apologize, I guess."

Defeated and at a loss, Phoenix buried his face in his hands again. He heard Trucy get up from her chair, and after a moment or two she planted a kiss on his forehead, and placed another cookie on a napkin in front of him.

"I really like Apollo and Athena," she told him.

"Yeah," agreed Phoenix, still gazing at the desktop. "Yeah, I like them too, Trucy."

Trucy nodded, then placed her hand on his. "But Daddy, I love you, and I know that even though Apollo's sort of angry right now, he and Athena really, really care about you too. I want us to be happy working together for a really long time, and so I want you to forgive yourself so that we can make all of this awful stuff from before go away. You don't have to be sad anymore, okay? Everything's going to be all right, now."

With that, Trucy retrieved the tray of cookies, and returned them into her magic panties. Phoenix looked up to find her still smiling at him, and in that moment he was amazed by just mature and elegant she looked, almost like the picture of her mother Thalassa Gramarye.

_They sure grow up fast, huh? _He wasn't sure if he should have been proud, or a little sad, or maybe both. _I wonder when that happened…_

"Well," he sighed, "I guess if you can forgive me, Trucy, then maybe anyone can. Maybe it's time for me to start thinking it, too."

Trucy shrugged. "I never had to forgive you," she reminded him. "I was never mad. You've been a wonderful Daddy, and I'm happy to be here. I just want you to be happy, too, that's all."

Phoenix did his best to smile at her, and it was much easier than he'd expected it to be. Trucy beamed, turned around, and quietly closed the door behind her as she left the office

Just before leaving, she turned back, and said, "I know you have to work, but you have to sleep too. Come home soon, okay?"

For a few minutes after Trucy had left the room, Phoenix sat, thinking hard about what she'd said. He remembered the stricken, angry look on Apollo's face while Apollo had been pleading with him to just let him help with the case. Trucy, too, had seemed distraught, and she was the last person in the world that he wanted to upset.

_Maybe she's right, _he thought. _Maybe they're both right. Maybe I've just been stuck in my head all of this time, and it's time to start thinking less about myself, and more about this 'team' Apollo talks about. Never realized it before, but I guess I've been kind of difficult after all. I never meant to make them worry about me. I just…wanted to be sure. I wanted to be sure of myself. Maybe that' what I really need to be working on._

Straightening up in his chair, he took a deep breath, and glanced over at the clock. Apparently it was now after one AM, and there was still a huge pile of papers on his desk.

_Oh boy, _thought Phoenix. _It's going to be a long, long night. What is it that Apollo usually says at times like this?_

"Uh…I'm Phoenix Wright," announced Phoenix into the empty office. "And…I'm fine."

That wasn't, of course, exactly true, but for some reason it did make Phoenix feel a bit better.

_Well, okay, so maybe I'm not fine quite yet, _he reasoned with himself, _but I think I will be. I'm getting there, anyway. _

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **This chapter was inspired by another great Billy Joel song, "An Innocent Man." That's actually my favorite Billy Joel song!


	7. Five: Counting Stars

**Author's Note: **I typed way too much yesterday and forgot to wear my wrist brace, so today I have to taek it easy. I'll start off my epic fanfiction morning with a short and short ensemble piece. Tru

Fair warning: I still have several requests to do, but I am coming closer and closer to the end of my list! Please submit a few more! Otherwise I will have no songs to play with…and then I will be sad.

Uh, no pressure, or anything!

* * *

**Five: Counting Stars**

**(January 9, 2027)**

_**Offices of the Wright Anything Agency**_

_Lately I been, I been losing sleep_

_Dreaming about the things that we could be_

_Lately I been, I been praying hard_

_Said no more counting dollars_

_We'll be counting stars_

_Yeah, we'll be counting stars_

It was one of those long, slow days at the Wright Anything Agency. Actually, it had been one of those long, slow weeks, or maybe even one of those long, slow months. None of the resident attorneys had received that many clients or that much work, and money was very, very tight. Subsequently, morale in the office was at a pretty low ebb.

"I'm so hungry,' muttered Apollo miserably, lying on his back on the sofa with his eyes shut. "They never told me about days like this when I was back in law school. I mean, lawyering is supposed to be a real job, with a steady source of income. This is no better than being a stage performer."

Trucy glanced over at him and grinned. "Does that mean you'll consider being my 'lovely assistant' after all, Polly? I've got a big show tomorrow night!"

Apollo groaned, and held both hands up in protest." Okay, okay, maybe I exaggerated. This is, at least, a little better than being a magician. Sorry, Trucy, but that isn't happening."

"Oh well." Trucy sighed, but didn't seem too put out. "Well, if you're so hungry, then why don't you try eating some of these packing peanuts? We still have a lot of old furniture boxes lying around from when we ordered the new sofa and the new chairs. They're all full of peanuts!"

Athena laughed. "Trucy, you can't actually eat packing peanuts," she said.

"Huh? Of course you can." Trucy frowned. "If you couldn't eat them, then why would they be called 'peanuts?'"

"That," announced Mr. Wright from his folding chair over by the door, "sounds like something Maya would say. Actually, I'm pretty sure we had a conversation just like that when we first moved into these offices all those years ago. She actually made me try eating a packing peanut."

Athena looked interested. "Really?"

"Was it any good?" Apollo raised an eyebrow.

Mr. Wright grimaced. "No, it definitely wasn't what I'd call 'food.'"

"Still," insisted Trucy enthusiastically, "you're still alive, and you didn't get sick, so I guess that means it was technically 'edible.' What if we roasted them, or microwaved them, or covered them with ketchup?" From her magic panties, she produced a large bottle of ketchup. "Oh, and I think I have mustard in here somewhere, too."

Apollo sighed. Mr. Wright shook his head. Trucy, disappointed, put the ketchup back into her panties.

For a few moments, the entire office sat in hungry, deflated silence.

Then, suddenly, Athena sat up, took a deep breath, and punched one fist into her other hand, her eyes shining with characteristic determination.

"Guys," she announced. "We can't keep acting like this! Lawyers aren't supposed to lie around moaning and moping and behaving like little kids! What is it that Mr. Wright always says? When times are really hard, then it's up to us lawyers to put on our biggest smiles!"

"Smiles aren't edible either," muttered Apollo, but Athena ignored him.

"If the clients won't come to us," she went on, "then we'll just have to go to the clients! The world is full of crime and criminals! Let's go out there and find some!"

"Uh…you probably shouldn't sound so happy about that," suggested Mr. Wright. "Still…I see your point. You're right, we're not getting anything done by whining about how difficult things have been. I guess this might be a good time to think about advertising."

"We already have advertisements up all over the city," Apollo reminded him." You had Trucy and I walk around wall-papering everything with flyers last week."

Trucy shook her head. "But, those flyers just aren't enough! Daddy used to have a lot of old clients that would tell everyone about how great we were, but that was so long ago that I'm not sure any of those people are even still alive."

Mr. Wright winced. "That…may be a little extreme, Trucy."

"Anyway," Athena interrupted. "it sounds like what we need is more advertisement."

"Oh, or maybe just better advertisement." Trucy chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I mean, it's not that we don't have enough flyers up. Maybe we just aren't making the right statement. We aren't catching people's eyes. Our flyers need to have more color, flash, and pizzazz! We need to really start attracting people! Oh, hey, what if we set them on fire? That'd get some attention!"

Apollo's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "Trucy! We can't set anything on fire! That's arson!"

"But," mused Athena, "she's right about one thing. It would definitely attract attention."

Trucy looked disapppointed." Well, I mean, I guess Polly's right. Getting arrested might not be the best way to start attracting new clients. It's a shame, though. I just finished learning a new trick that lets me set fire to pretty much anything within five or six yards!"

Clearing his throat, Mr. Wright suggested, "Trucy, about these new tricks you've been learning…I think it's time for us to have a little chat."

Mr. Wright raised an eyebrow at his daughter, and had just lifted his famous admonishing finger, apparently prepared to begin a lecture. Unfortunately, his stomach chose that moment to let out a huge growl. Embarrassed, he ran a nervous hand through his hair and mumbled, "Uh, sorry about that…"

"So, wait," began Athena thoughtfully, drumming her fingers against her knees and rocking back and forth on the sofa. "Here's a big question. What kind of clients are we looking for, exactly?"

"Um…well, wealthy ones, I guess?" Trucy shrugged.

"Innocent ones, preferably," added Apollo.

Athena shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant. You guys aren't thinking about this the right way. I mean, if we're going to go after some new clients, we have to think about exactly what kind of people we're looking to attract. Mr. Wright's always been famous for getting people acquitted of murder charges, right? So, shouldn't we be going after alleged murderers?"

Trucy frowned. "Won't that be kind of hard to find? I mean, murders are pretty rare."

"This is L.A.," Mr. Wright reminded them wryly. "I doubt we'll have any trouble finding crime of that kind, but…honestly, Athena, murder cases are the most complicated to try, and the hardest to win. We might want to start out looking for some easier cases."

"Agreed," said Apollo. "No reason to make ourselves crazy, right? All of my worst cases have been murders."

"Aw," said Trucy, "but we've had some pretty great murder cases too, right, Polly? I mean, if it hadn't been for that one murder case, you and Daddy would never have met, and then we'd never have met, either! That would have been a shame."

Apollo stared. "But…wait, you can't be serious. Trucy, the case you're talking about…that's when your father was-!"

"And I think that's quite enough of that." Mr. Wright glared at Apollo. He stood up, crossed over to where Trucy was sitting, and passed an arm around her shoulders. Apollo suddenly looked uncomfortable and a little guilty, but Trucy just kept smiling, like she always did. Athena did think she saw just the quickest of flickers in Trucy's eyes, but she decided after a moment that she must have been mistaken.

"Well, Trucy's right about one thing," said Athena, standing up and turning to look at the rest of her team. "We have had some pretty exciting murder cases. After all, murders are always the most dramatic, and they're the ones that get the most notice and publicity! If we're really trying to make a name for the Wright Anything Agency, then we need to be tackling the hardest stuff out there! Anyway, what's the point of doing it if it's just going to be easy? Getting into the dirty, gritty, intense stuff is way more interesting anyway! We have to go big, or go home! What do you say?"

She beamed at Trucy, who jumped up and pumped both fists excitedly into the air. "Yeah! That's right! Athena's right, everybody! I'm gonna go right now and make some new signs!"

"New sighs, huh?" Apollo rolled his eyes. "What are you going to write on them? Something like, 'did you kill someone? Well, if you're a murderer, come to the Wright Anything Agency. We're desperate enough to take your money!"

"Um…yeah, something like that." Trucy thought about that for a moment." I mean, we might have to change the wording a bit to make it more concise, but that's the gist, sure."

Athena shook her head." Of course we don't want REAL murderers. We're trying to defend innocent people, remember? Still, you've got the 'desperate' thing right. I mean, if you've been accused of a murder you didn't commit, you're probably pretty ready to pay up, right? After all, if you don't get a good defense, you're probably going to die anyway, so you might as well stake it all!"

Apollo and Mr. Wright both stared at Athena for a long moment.

"You're…a very frightening woman," murmured Mr. Wright, "I'm not sure if I should be proud, or concerned…"

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Well, that was a lot of fun to write!

This little piece was inspired by "Counting Stars," by One Republic.

Now I need to go rest my wrists for a bit. I'm sure I'll get some more writing done later…


	8. Six: Silhouette

**Author's Note: **This is going to be another pair of stories (a two-chapter set.) I was so, so sad when Maya didn't appear in Dual Destinies. We did get to see Pearl, although not very much of her. I've always felt that the Phoenix, Maya, and Pearl were really a sort of family, just as he, Apollo, Athena and Trucy are a sort of family. Time for Maya and Pearl to get some love.

* * *

**Six: Silhouette**

**(January 15, 2027) **

_**Kurain Village Channeling Chamber**_

_I'm tired of waking up in tears_

_Because I can't put to bed these phobias and fears_

_I'm new to this grief I can't explain_

_But I'm no stranger to the heartache and the pain_

_The fire I began is burning my alive_

_But I know better than to leave and let it die_

_The problem with spirit channeling, _thought Pearl Fey, alone with her thoughts in the middle of the darkened Kurain Channeling Chamber, _is that it's not something you can do for yourself. _

That, she knew, was a selfish thought, and Pearl despised selfishness more than almost anything else. Unfortunately, despite all of her best efforts and intentions, she'd been spending a lot of time lately thinking about herself.

It was hard not to, of course, when there was almost no one else around to think about. Mystic Maya was busy with the very last stages of her advanced training, and soon everyone who had ever doubted Mystic Maya would learn just what a powerful and fearsome spirit medium she really was. Pearl, of course, was happy about that, but the fact that Maya's training schedule had intensified lately meant that Pearl almost never had a chance to see her. There were very few other people in the village that Pearl knew well, and she'd never been very good at reaching out and meeting new people or making new friends. Somehow, she found that she always had a hard time connecting with other people. She didn't love their small talk, and she didn't know much about the outside world, so she was never exactly the life of any party. She wasn't a very interesting or exciting conversationalist, and most interactions she engaged in ending up flagging after a few disappointing minutes.

Sometimes, it really got hard not to be lonely, even if loneliness was selfish. It was even worse today than usual, because today there was one person that Pearl really, really wanted to talk to, and who she knew she'd never be able to talk to again.

_Today is mother's birthday, _thought Pearl. _She would have been…how old, today? Fifty two. Oh, but I think she wouldn't have liked to be fifty two. Maybe I should say that she would have been thirty. Mother always said that she was only thirty when people asked, no matter how many years went by. Should I be celebrating her "thirtieth" birthday again this year, then? Maybe. Yes, I think she'd prefer it that way. _

Death had never been an insurmountable obstacle for the women of Kurain Village. After all, both Pearl and her beloved cousin Maya were extremely talented spirit mediums, able to contact and channel even people who had been deceased for many, many years.

The problem, of course, was that when Pearl channeled a spirit, she had to give up her own body and consciousness to allow that spirit access to the world. Subsequently, she and the channeled spirit couldn't exist in the same space, or within the same consciousness at the same time.

Pearl would never again be able to wish her mother a happy birthday. No amount of power would permit her to channel a spirit outside of her own body. She could only fulfill the wishes of other people who were desperate to see their loved ones. She'd never be able to bring a loved one back just for herself.

_And that, _thought a miserable little voice in the very back of Pearl's mind, _just isn't fair! I know the spirit channeling can make people very happy. I've seen Mystic Maya make some people very happy by letting them talk to their loved ones again. We are supposed to use our channeling powers for the good of other people; to solve crimes and to learn about the truth, as well as to help people smile again. It's just that…it's just that I want to be happy, too. Is that…very wrong? _

It was, of course, very wrong. Pearl knew that it was particularly wrong to wish to see her mother, even on a day like this, even on her mother's birthday, because Pearl's mother, Morgan Fey was a very, very bad woman. She'd done a lot of truly terrible things when she had been alive, and that, of course, was why she'd had to go to prison and why she'd been executed in the first place.

_Mother was a murderer, _Pearl reminded herself. _It is wrong to channel people like mother, because if I let her visit this world, she might hurt someone again. I promised Mystic Maya that I would never do it. A promise is a promise…and a promise can't be broken._

Pearl knew on a purely rational level that Maya was right about her mother. She knew that when Mr. Nick had proven Morgan Fey's guilt in court, he'd been doing the just, right, and honest thing, and that he'd been saving an innocent life in the process. That was right and good, and that's the way, of course, that it should have happened.

_But…_

There were still those horrible little selfish moments in the dark when Pearl tried to stop herself from wondering, but couldn't. She felt terribly sorry for herself, and for her mother, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, Mr. Nick had betrayed her that day in court when he'd condemned Morgan Fey to die. She hated feeling that way, and she hated the awful moments of doubt, because she loved Mystic Maya and she loved Mr. Nick, and she knew that doubting the people she loved was a crime and a sin, and something that maybe made her unworthy of being loved.

_And besides, _she reminded herself sternly, _If mother had never gone to prison then something terrible might have happened to Mystic Maya. Mr. Nick had to stop her, because she was trying to kill Mystic Maya. If he hadn't stopped her, then…then I might have had to be all alone, forever. She might have taken Mystic Maya away from me, too, and then…and then what would I do?_

It was when she started thinking those thoughts that Pearl usually stopped wondering and started trying not to cry instead. The logic got too circular, and it made her head hurt. If her mother had never committed that murder, then Pearl would never have met Mr. Nick, and maybe she'd never have really gotten to know Mystic Maya, because they'd never have had a chance to be so close. If mother had never been arrested, then Mystic Maya would have been arrested, and then Mystic Maya would have had to put to death instead, and that would have been a terrible loss, both for Pearl and for Kurain village. If mother had never been arrested, Pearl would be horribly, horribly alone in this world…except of course that she'd have her mother, and that she'd never have to celebrate the sad little birthday of a dead woman whom Pearl was sure had really loved her, even if no one else believed that Morgan Fey had been capable of something like love.

As it stood now, Pearl wasn't sure what she should think. After all, no matter what, it looked like she was stuck. Mystic Maya was too busy, too important, and too powerful to devote much time to her little cousin. Mother…was dead, and couldn't ever come back, no matter what, and no matter how good Pearl ever got at spirit channeling. It would never be allowed.

_I think, _decided Pearl miserably, _that maybe I'm supposed to be alone. Maybe I'll…always be alone. If I'm alone, that means that everything else is working out exactly the way it's supposed to be. Mystic Maya is busy, and she's safe, because mother is gone and…and that's just the way things have to be. _

That was the conclusion that she reached every single year, on her mother's birthday, when she allowed herself, just for a few minutes, to feel like the loneliest young woman in the world.

Just when she felt like she couldn't hold back the tears any more, Pearl abandoned the Channeling Chamber and wandered aimlessly out onto the streets of Kurain Village. It was already dark, and she was surprised. She hadn't paid much attention to how long she'd spent alone in the channeling chamber, thinking about mother, and about herself. Somehow, while Pearl had been brooding, the stars had already come out.

Standing at the outskirts of the village, Pearl looked up and spent a few minutes watching the stars. The stars were mysterious and beautiful things, and Pearl knew that Mr. Nick had a friend, Mr. Starbuck, who'd even been to visit the stars. That confused Pearl a little bit, because she wasn't sure exactly where the stars were, or how one would manage to visit them. Not only were they scarily far away, but there never seemed to be the same number in the sky all at the same time. Sometimes she'd look up at the stars and only see one or two, and other nights there would be hundreds and hundreds of twinkling little lights in the sky all at once.

_I wonder what would happen if you visited the stars, and found that they weren't there? _Pearl frowned. _Or, what if you went all the way to the stars, and they disappeared while you were visiting them? That would be very lonely, I think. Maybe it would be the loneliest thing in the whole world…or maybe not. After all, the stars always come back. They're back every night, except when it's too dark to see, and even when some of them disappear, they appear again another night. The stars always have each other. Maybe I could go and visit the stars, if I had a rocket like Mr. Starbuck. _

Of course, that was silly, because Pearl wasn't an astronaut, didn't have a rocket, and would probably think that space was really scary if she ever did go. A lot of the world was terrifying, and not safe for a girl out on her own. Leaving the village was out of the question, and always had been. After all, if Pearl left, where would she go?

_And…what about Mystic Maya? _Pearl frowned. _I could never leave Mystic Maya. She needs me here to help with…well, with everything. I'm good at channeling, and I'm good at cleaning up around the village. I can't go to the stars, or go into the city, or run away anywhere, because…_

Because if Pearl left, then Mystic Maya might be lonely, and that would be horrible.

Maybe watching someone she loved so much be lonely would be even worse than being lonely herself.

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Okay, so…I'm not entirely sure what I just wrote. It wasn't exactly a story. Honestly, it was more a character study; very stream of consciousness. The way I write these is that I turn on the particular song that I'm using, and while listening to it on repeat, I do a free-writing session, scribbling down whatever comes logically into my head while the song plays.

This time, the result was sort of amorphous, and very sad. Still, in many ways Pearl is a tragic character, even though you and I both know that Nick and Maya love Pearl far more than she seems to recognize in this little story.

…Anyway. Now that you've read this tragic mess, you're probably ready for something completely different. The next chapter that I wrte will be a much more empowering and upbeat one.

Also!

I have two other Phoenix Wright stories on this website that just might appeal to you.

One of my stories, **Safe Haven** is a romance between Phoenix Wright and his apprentice, Athena Cykes. I'm a sucker for the forbidden romance dynamic between the older teacher and the younger student, ad I'm really enjoying writing that story. If you're into romance, please give it a try! I'd love to hear your opinions.

My other Phoenix Wright story is called **To Rekindle the Turnabout**, and it's about what happens when Diego Armando is released from prison, and returns to the Wright Anything Agency to try and find himself. Please feel free to check that one out as well if you're interested. (Godot is my favorite ever Ace Attorney character. Why doesn't he get more love?)

…And I think that's quite enough out of me, for now. Thank you for reading!


	9. Seven: Girl On Fire

**Author's Note: **So, you may notice that there's a little bit of overlap between this story and a couple of my other stories. Characters in each of my stories may make a similar-sounding comment or joke, or may reference similar situation.

I think I've decided that all of the stories I write are actually connected in one big timeline/universe, so you can actually read all of them together to make up one cohesive plot. In order to make that work, I might have to tweak things a bit, but please bear with me. I may go back and do a little tiny bit of editing here and there to make sure that everything fits together perfectly, and all the dates line up.

* * *

**Seven: Girl on Fire**

**(January 18, 2027) **

_**Kurain Village Entrance**_

_She's just a girl and she's on fire_

_Hotter than a fantasy, lonely like a highway_

_She's living in a world, and it's on fire_

_Filled with catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away_

_Oh, she's got her feet on the ground, and she's burning it down_

_Oh, she's got her head in the clouds, and she's not backing down_

_This girl is on fire_

"So," Phoenix asked Pearl as they stood together at the outskirts of Kurain Village, "Maya's got some big training thing today, right?"

"It's not just some 'big training thing,' Mr. Nick!" Pearl looked excited. "Today is the very last day of Mystic Maya's training to become the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique! This is the biggest and most important day of Mystic Maya's life! Today she'll finally realize her full potential, and become the most powerful and well-respected spirit medium in the world."

_Are there a lot of other spirit mediums out there? _Phoenix frowned. _I guess there must be. Funny, I've never thought much about it before. I sort of figured they were all clustered here in Kurain Village, but that would be…well, weird, I guess. Not that everything about this isn't a little weird._

"Um…and that reminds me, Mr. Nick," mumbled Pearl. "Why are you here? If you know Mystic Maya is in training today, then…you know she can't come out and play or help at the office."

"Yeah, well, Maya's been working on this training of hers for a long time," returned Phoenix, shrugging. "She's put a lot of hard work into all of this, and like you said, today is sort of a big deal. I wanted to be here for her when the training's over. You know, maybe we can all go celebrate or something."

Pearl beamed at him. "Oh…of course Of course you'd want to be here for that! Mr. Nick, that's such a beautiful, romantic gesture." She sighed happily. Phoenix winced.

_At some point, _he told himself, for probably the thousandth time, _we really have to tell Pearl the truth about me and Maya. Pearl is eighteen years old, now. I'm sure she's old enough to be able to accept the truth…probably. Maybe. Actually, maybe I'll let Maya handle that. Yeah, that's probably for the best. _

"Well, we won't be waiting here for too long," Pearl was saying. "The training's going to start really soon! Look, over there!"

She pointed at a pair of women, both clad in the same kind of ceremonial robes that Maya usually wore, only in greens instead of purples. They were each holding a flaming torch and walking towards a little wooden shack that was just barely visible from where Phoenix and Pearl were standing.

Phoenix frowned. "What's that little house over there? Is that where the training's going to happen?"

Pearl nodded enthusiastically.

"Huh, that's weird," mused Phoenix. "I figured she'd be locked in the Channeling Chamber, or something. Isn't that where she usually trains?"

"Well, yes," agreed Pearl, "but this is a very special occasion. The village women built that little house over there just for this final trial of Mystic Maya's power!"

_Really? _Nick was impressed. _Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, it's like Pearl said, this is the biggest deal in the village right now. Besides, building a shed like that is never a bad idea. After Maya's finished in it, maybe they can use it for something else…like storage, or even-!_

He never got to finish the thought, because at that moment, as he and Pearl watched, the women circled around to either side of the little shack. Then they each placed their burning torch against the thatched roof of the shack, and stepped away as the shack began burning brightly, the panels and walls quickly catching fire until the whole thing was ablaze.

"Wha…WHAT?" Phoenix stared, "Pearl, look! It's...it's burning! Those women set it on fire! Come on, we have to get down there, now!" _It's just like all those years ago, _he thought miserably. _It looks like the Master of Kurain Village will always be a target for murder and usurpation attempts, even now that Morgan Fey is gone. We have to get her out of there!_

"Mr. Nick, wait!" Pearl grabbed a hold of his arm just as he was about to dash off for the burning shack. "Please, wait! You can't interrupt the training! Mystic Maya will be fine!"

"Huh?" Phoenix stared at her. "What…what are you talking about? She's-!"

"The final spirit medium training," explained Pearl quickly, "involves summoning the spirit of the former Kurain Master in the middle of a burning building. Mystic Maya has to be able to connect quickly with an extremely powerful spirit, while not allowing herself to be distracted by the flames or the building coming down around her. This is the way the training has been conducted for years, and years, and years! You don't have to worry, Mr. Nick! Mystic Maya is even more powerful than you realize! She will complete the training, and she will get out of there before it burns down! Please, believe in her!"

_Believe in her? I do believe in her! _Phoenix shook his head in disbelief. _It's not a question of whether or not she's powerful enough to summon a spirit. Fire is not a joke! She could be killed in there before she even starts the channeling, no matter how powerful or impressive her skills are!_

"We…we have to let her do this on her own," mumbled Pearl. "Mr. Nick, please understand…"

"ARE YOU ALL INSANE?" Phoenix turned on Pearl, shaking his head furiously. "Of course I'm going! Don't try to stop me."

Before Pearl had a chance to protest again, Phoenix took off in the direction of the burning shack. _Hang in there, Maya, _he thought, running as fast as he could and wishing he was in better shape as the breath pounded painfully in his lungs. _Just hang in there. I'm coming! _

**Meanwhile, inside the burning shack…**

Maya Fey felt the heat as the walls began to catch fire, and shetried not to panic. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and centered herself as best she could, willing herself not to listen to the crackling sounds of the flames or the snaps as the twigs and branches that held the shack up began to lean and give way under the flaming onslaught.

_I can do this, _she told herself. _I am the Master, and the Master has to be strong for the sake of the village. I'm not afraid. I can't be afraid!_

Unfortunately, Maya was terrified.

Doing her best to calm her mind and soul enough to be able to focus on the task at hand, Maya reached out towards her tenuous connection with the spirit world. As she breathed in and out, forcibly relaxing her mind, she could feel that connection strengthen, and her consciousness of this world began to slowly fade away.

_Misty Fey, _she chanted in the confines of her mind. _Misty Fey…Misty-!_

Behind her, something popped, sparked, and then roared. Maya squeaked in fear, and as her concentration broke, the spirit world disappeared and she was standing again the middle of a horrible little burning shack with very few minutes left to spare.

_Focus, Maya! _Angry at herself, she shut her eyes tightly and put both fingers in her ears, forcing out the sights and sounds of the outside world. _Okay. Let's try this again. Here goes…_

Again, a little faster this time, Maya managed to locate and solidify her line of communication with the spirit world. _Misty Fey, _she thought. _Misty Fey, please, come to me. Mystic Misty…the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique summons you!_

The heat of the flames was getting unbearable, and the noise kept increasing. Maya wasn't sure how much time she had left.

_Mom, _she whispered desperately in her head. _Mommy, please…help me. I need you._

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Maya felt a sudden remarkable rush of power that sucked her breath away and made her gasp, as the images of someone else's nightmare erupted abruptly in her head. She could see clearly the moment of Mystic Misty's death, and the masked face of Prosecutor Godot as he'd delivered the final killing blow. She could hear the screams of her own daughter Maya, but bizarrely, in that terrible moment, all Maya could feel from Misty was a sort of resigned, determined calm. None of the carnage or even her own fast-approaching demise seemed to frighten her. Instead, her whole being and spirit were encompassed by something almost like hope as her consciousness faded away and she left the human world for the darker world of the spirits.

_Maya, _thought Misty Fey, even as her mind and Maya's began to blend into one, and their individual consciousnesses became indistinct and indecipherable from one another, _I'm here. I will always be here for you. Don't be afraid. _

Then everything that was Maya faded away, and the world went quiet, calm, and dark while the fire burned all around.

**Meanwhile, just outside the burning shack…**

The door was on fire, but Phoenix didn't care. He kicked it in as hard as he could, and the flames lapped at his winter boots as the flimsy door fell forward, revealing a robed figure kneeling on the ground, surrounded by singed and burning wood and wreckage.

"Maya," breathed Phoenix, rushing forward. "Maya, are you allright?"

Slowly, the figure stood up, and when she was finally on her feet, she was much taller than Maya Fey had ever been. She turned and smiled peacefully out of the eyes of a woman that Phoenix had met only once before, but whom he'd seen many times in pictures and depictions throughout Kurain Village.

"Wait," he mumbled, "You're-!"

Elise Deauxnim smiled at him. "Yes," she murmured. "I am Misty Fey, former Master of the Kurain school. It has been a long time, Mr. Phoenix Wright. I feel…that perhaps I owe you an apology. Also, my thanks. You've done a great deal for our family."

"Um…" Phoenix wasn't quite sure what to say. The building was still on fire, but Misty didn't seem worried at all. "It's…it was nothing. Maya, she-!"

"She loves you very much," interrupted Misty, nodding. "She trusts you. Trust is a difficult thing to gain from a woman of the Kurain school. Please…take good care of my daughter."

Then, with one final, majestic little smile, Misty Fey released Maya, or maybe Maya released Misty, and the form that belonged to Maya crumpled suddenly to the ground.

"Maya!" Phoenix rushed in and gathered her up into his arms. When he looked into her face this time, all traces of Misty were gone, and Maya was back in her own body. Her face was just as peaceful and serene as Misty's had been, but absent were the marks of age and the gentle wrinkles on the brow. As Phoenix gazed at her, he recognized, not for the first time, the remarkable family resemblance between her and her mother.

He carried her out of the burning shack, and as soon as he'd stepped over the threshold, the two women in green robes rushed in and began dousing water on the fire. Phoenix ignored them, and got as far away as he could from the blaze before settling himself down on the ground and resting Maya's head on his lap.

"Nngh," she mumbled, beginning to stir. "Mom…?"

"Uh, no." Phoenix was so relieved that he had trouble speaking, and he found that his mouth had gone dry. "It's me, Maya. A-are you okay?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at him in surprise for a moment. "Nick..? Oh, Nick! You're here! What happened? I don't remember getting out of that shack. I thought…" She swallowed hard. "I was really scared. I hate fire."

_Yeah, I don't blame you, _thought Phoenix. "Uh," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could, "well, you were done with your channeling, so I came and got you. You probably don't remember, because-!"

"I did it, didn't I?" Maya sat up abruptly, and glanced over at the wreckage of the shack she'd just escaped from. "I felt her…my mother. She was there in the shack with me…in my heart. I really did it. I completed the final training."

Phoenix remembered the quiet smile on Misty Fey's face just before her consciousness had faded away. _Take care of Maya, huh? No problem. Maybe she doesn't need me to take care of her after all. Looks like she's just as powerful as they say. Looks like she can pretty much look after herself. Still…it's not like I won't be there. I'll always be there. I can promise you that much. _

"I really did it!" Maya was now grinning. "See, Nick? I bet you doubted me. I bet you thought I couldn't do it, but I did it! You may be an Ace Attorney, but I'm an Ace Spirit Medium, now! You better watch out! I might start getting even more clients than you, now that I'm going to be famous."

She laughed, and Phoenix shook his head at her, amazed as always at how quickly she bounced back from any harrowing situation. It was only then that he noticed there were tears pooling in the corners of Maya's eyes.

"Come on," he said, standing up and helping her back to her feet. "Let's head back to the village gate. Pearls is probably really worried about you."

"Oh, right!" Maya nodded. "Yeah, she gets like that sometimes, huh? Not that there was anything to worry about, of course. This was, uh, a piece of cake for a Master like me!"

"Right," muttered Phoenix, hiding a smile.

"Ooh, and speaking of cake," Maya went one, "I'm starving. Channeling really works up an appetite, you know? So do burning buildings. Hey, do you think anything's still open at this hour? What time is it, anyway?"

_Good old Maya, _thought Phoenix as they strolled back towards the village entrance together.

**Fin. **

**Author's End Note: **So, in this chapter, Misty says that Maya "loves" Phoenix. I think that's absolutely true, but I don't see them as being romantically in love. I think that Phoenix and Maya have been through so much together that they have a very special bond, almost familial, definitely closer than any romantic couple would be. That's how I see the "love" in this chapter, but you, of course, are entitled to interpret "love" any way you would like.


	10. Eight-1: Pressure

**Author's Note: **I wanted to complete the Phoenix and Apollo story arc that I began a couple of chapters ago. Here is the next (and third) installment in the Phoenix and Apollo conflict storyline, inspired by the music of Billy Joel!

* * *

**Eight:-1 Pressure **

**January 26, 2027**

**Courtroom Number 5**

_You have to learn to pace yourself (pressure)_

_You're just like everybody else (pressure)_

_You've only had to run so far (so good)_

_But you will come to a place_

_Where the only thing you feel_

_Are loaded guns in your face_

_And you'll have to handle pressure_

The trial of Mr. Martin P. Porlock was just about to begin, but most of the gallery seats were still empty, and the judge had yet to take the stand. Phoenix and Apollo stood uncomfortably behind the defense's bench, and the air between them was so tense that you could have cut it with one of Trucy's favorite magical blunted throwing knives.

_This is…so awkward, _thought Phoenix desperately. _Every time he looks at me, I feel like he's boring a hole into my back. _

"You're nervous, Mr. Wright," announced Apollo. Phoenix spun around to find Apollo staring at him with both arms crossed over his chest.

"What? Me? Nervous?" Phoenix shook his head. "What are you talking about? Why would I be nervous?"

"Your hand always goes to the back of your neck when you're feeling uncomfortable," noted Apollo, pointing an accusing finger at Phoenix's hand, which was in the process of scratching at the nape of his neck. "You're sweating, too. Something bothering you? Maybe you're not feeling as prepared as you could have been for this morning's trial?"

Phoenix sighed. _The only thing making me nervous, _he thought, _is the way you keep staring at me. All right, all right, I'm sorry! I'm sorry we had a little spat in the office a few weeks ago! Are you seriously still mad about that? And you say that ATHENA's the touchy one! I guess it's probably too late now for a sincere apology to save the day, huh? Oh well…it's worth a try, at least._

"Apollo," he began carefully. "Look, um, about what happened a few weeks ago. You know, when you were upset because I wasn't letting you help me out with my paperwork, and then I got mad and gave you a lecture about the trust between attorney and client…?"

Apollo didn't say anything. Instead, he began nonchalantly leafing through his notebook. "Yeah? What about it?"

"Well, um, I just, uh, wanted you to know that I've been thinking a bit about that argument, and maybe that whole lecture of mine was jut a bit out of line. After all, even if you are my subordinate-!"

Apollo snorted derisively, but Phoenix soldiered on.

"Even if you are technically my subordinate," he continued determinedly, "We can't really work together or go any farther to expand the Wright Anything Agency if we can't see eye to eye, and I guess that means that I'm going to have to give some ground and let by-gones by by-gones, so…"

"Trucy told you to apologize, didn't she?" Apollo shook his head. "That's not going to work, Mr. Wright. I'm not interested in hearing some false, condescending apology that your daughter forced you to make. If you can't learn to respect me as a partner, fine. Just remember that I was the one who ultimately won the case that proved your innocence and helped you get your career back in the first place. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't even be here."

_Uh…_Phoenix coughed. _Well, actually, I was the one who did most of the investigating in that case. I just gave you all the information and stuck you behind the defense's bench. A monkey could have done it. Maybe. Okay, maybe not a monkey, but it's not like you didn't have help. From me. Not that I'm not grateful, or anything, but…_

"Ah…right." He sighed. "You're…you're right, of course. Let's just get through this trial, okay?"

Again, Apollo said nothing. Phoenix gave up.

"Such tension," announced Klavier Gavin, stepping around to the other side of the prosecution's bench. "The pressure between the two of you is nearly tangible, today. Interesting. Trouble in paradise, perhaps?"

Apollo rolled his eyes. "Gavin," he muttered. "Nice to see you, too."

Klavier smiled. "Always a pleasure, Herr Forehead. Ah, and Herr Wright."

Phoenix nodded. _Please, _he begged internally, _Prosecutor Gavin, can you maybe not be as antagonistic as possible today? Just once, try keeping the drama to yourself. Pretty please? _

Luckily, Apollo was still immersed in his notes. There was a vein pulsing in his temple, and his face was maybe a little redder than it would normally have been, but he was still basically in control.

"Herr Forehead?" Klavier frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," mumbled Apollo.

Behind them, the courtroom doors open and people began spilling into seats, chattering excitedly amongst themselves as they settled in for what was no doubt about to be an exciting bit of courtroom entertainment.

"Polly! Daddy!" Trucy waved at them as she settled herself as close as she could to the defense's bench. "Good luck, today!"

"Luck? Hey, they won't need any luck!" Athena beamed confidently at them from the seat just to Trucy's left. "They've got this in the bag! Wright and Justice, Justice and Wright, defense team extraordinaire. Right, boss?"

Apollo continued to glower at the floor.

_Okay, _thought Phoenix miserably, _if I wasn't sweating before, I'm sure doing it now. Jeez. _

"Oh, Apollo!" Suddenly, Juniper Woods came hurrying up to the defense's bench, clutching a red fuzzy woolen thing with little hearts all over it. On second glance, Phoenix realized that it was a scarf, or was at least supposed to be one.

"Oh, hey, Junie." Apollo cleared his throat, and stood up a little straighter. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Of course I came!" Junie nodded enthusiastically. "I come to as many of your trials as I can! It's always amazing watching you work! You two are such a magnificent team…just like two trees in the forest, reliable and constant, helping to support each other through the years!" She was almost glowing as she clasped her hands together and showered praise all over them. "It's inspirational! Oh, and…this is for you, Apollo."  
Juniper handed him the scarf, and Apollo accepted it after only the slightest hesitation. After glancing back briefly at Phoenix, he wrapped it gingerly around his neck and hazarded a smile.

"Thanks, Junie," he managed. "This is, uh…this is really sweet. Did you make this yourself?"

Juniper beamed at him. "Wear it when you win for me today! I'm counting on you both!" She nodded, smiled, turned and bounced back to where Athena and Trucy were sitting.

"Argh," mumbled Apollo, now glaring at the scarf.

_At least, _thought Phoenix, _now he's got something new to glare at. Thank god for little miracles. _

There was a commotion on the other side of the courtroom, and Phoenix tore his eyes away from the woolen monstrosity around Apollo's neck to look over at the prosecution's bench. Unexpectedly, there were now two people behind the bench. Klavier was still there, of course, but there was now a tall, austere older man standing beside him. He stood out in a mauve jacket adorned with ruffles that should have made him look effeminate, but somehow didn't.

"Edgeworth?" Phoenix gaped. "Wait, what…? What are YOU doing here? Aren't you busy with, uh…I don't know, important bureaucratic things?"

Edgeworth smiled ever-so-slightly. "As a matter of fact, Wright, my workload is remarkably and mercifully light, today. It has been quite some time since I have been able to observe a case of this magnitude with my own eyes, and Mr. Gavin kindly offered to share the bench with me. I've only had the pleasure of witnessing the two of you in combined action once before, and at the time, I was preoccupied with several other pressing matters. Perhaps this is my chance to finally observe the famous collaborative methods of the Wright/Justice defense team, which we have all, of course heard so much about."

"Guh…" Apollo sagged, and sank his head into his notebook.

_I'm going to throw up, _decided Phoenix, feeling his insides beginning to churn in earnest. _If the defense is incapacitated, I wonder if they'll hold the trial? No, they'll probably just wait for Athena to show up and take my place. Could I really get away with that? _

The courtroom doors slammed open again, and Phoenix turned to see the bailiff hurrying in, followed by the slightly more majestic-looking judge, who was really much too old to 'hurry.'

"Court," announced the bailiff, "is now in session for the trial of Martin P. Porlock. All rise!"

As the judge assumed his place behind the bench, the onlookers all dutifully stood up. Even after they'd all taken their seats again, Phoenix was unpleasantly conscious of many, many pairs of eyes fastened on him and Apollo. Klavier and Edgeworth were eyeing them with a kind of eager, anticipatory wariness that came from long associations with valued and competent rivals. Athena, Trucy, and Junie were beaming at them, holding back cheers. The defendant who had just been led in by the bailiff was gazing hopefully at them with desperation in his eyes. Even the judge was watching them, although by rights he should have been paying more attention to the prosecution, who was responsible for making the opening statement.

"Are you feeling well, Mr. Wright?" The judge frowned. "Something seems…off about you, today."

"Y-yes, Your Honor," began Phoenix. _Is it just me, or is this case somehow a lot higher stakes than we expected? What's with all the pressure? Can't a guy defend in peace, once in a while? _

Before Phoenix had a chance to finish speaking, Apollo slammed both fists down on the bench. "We're fine, Your Honor," he announced. "The defense is ready."

"Yaaaay, Apollo!" Trucy cheered. "Go get 'em!"

The judge cleared his throat. "Very well," he began. "Then, if the defense is actually in much better shape than it appears to be from the look on Mr. Wright's face, the prosecution may commence with the opening statement."

"Bring it on," whispered Apollo, clenching his fists.

Phoenix was genuinely impressed. He had to hand it Apollo; the guy did a lot better under pressure than most people would have. Actually, of the two of them, Phoenix was apparently the one suffering the most.

_Get it together, Wright, _he told himself, gritting his teeth and trying to shake off the feeling of nausea. _Apollo's right...we're going to be fine. After all, it's exactly like everyone has been saying. We're the famous, unbeatable Wright and Justice...or, Justice and Wright. We've got this trial in the bag. What could possibly go wrong? _

**Fin.**

* * *

**Author's End Note: **Hmm, not sure how I feel about this one. Any thoughts?


	11. Eight-2: Big Shot

**Author's Note: **A few of you asked if we could see more of the Apollo/Phoenix conflict, so here we are! I'll have to go back and do some retroactive editing to reorganize the story a little (probably a good idea anyway) and fix some chapter headings and ending lines.

We're going to go ahead and stay with the Billy Joel theme, and actually this song lends itself perfectly to what Apollo and Phoenix are dealing with, here.

Again, this isn't a terribly long one, but hopefully it'll add just a little more closure to the episode.

* * *

**Eight-2: Big Shot**

**January 26, 2027**

**Defendant Lobby Number 5**

_You had to be a big shot, didn't you_

_You had to open up your mouth_

_You had to be a big shot, didn't you_

_All your friends were so knocked out_

_You had to have the last word, last night_

_To know what everything's about_

_You had to have a white hot spotlight_

_You had to be a big shot last night_

After only two hours, the trial let out. The defendant, Mr. Porlock, was now a free man, and he was almost crying with relief as he strode through the double courtroom doors and ran into the waiting arms of his ecstatic family in the lobby.

_Well, _thought Apollo, _at least he's happy. That's something._

Apollo, however, wasn't particularly happy. He was frustrated and annoyed, but most of all he was embarrassed because he knew that the trial hadn't exactly gone his way. Everything had started off just fine, but it hadn't taken long for the prosecution to get the upper hand. Something about the particularly vexing way that Gavin had been smiling at him the whole time had thrown him off his game, and when it came time for the cross examination he'd asked a couple of really stupid questions. He'd even asked a couple of repeat questions, and had subsequently gotten a stern reprimand from the judge and an even wider malicious grin from Gavin, neither of which had served to improve his mood.

_This isn't like me at all, _he thought miserably. _I'm a mess and I'm not doing my best work. That trial was…intense. Yeah, that's one word for it. Seriously, what was the Chief Prosecutor doing there? It was like the odds were stacked against me from the start. Actually, maybe I should count myself lucky that I made it out of there alive. He can pretty ruthless when he wants to be._

"Apollo!" Athena called to him as she and Junie came hurrying over, both beaming. "Congratulations! You did a great job in there!"

"Uh…not really, but thanks." He shrugged. "I mean…at least we won. That's what matters in the end."

"Of course it is!" Trucy nodded encouragingly. "Look how happy Mr. Porlock and his family are! You did good today, Polly, so let's go out and celebrate! I'm starving. Athena's starving, too. I could hear her stomach growling the whole time that Officer Gregory was testifying."

Athena gave them both a sheepish little smile, and Apollo stifled a laugh.

"Wait, where's Daddy?" Frowning, Trucy turned around just in time to see Mr. Wright emerge from the courtroom, deep in conversation with Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth.

"…impressive in there," Edgeworth was saying as he and Mr. Wright approached the others. "I wasn't disappointed. You should be pleased with yourself, Wright. Not too pleased, however. After all, this time, the evidence was in your favor."

Mr. Wright nodded. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, I guess From you, that's a pretty extravagant compliment."

"Mr. Wright!" Athena immediately turned and gazed admiringly at her boss and mentor. "That was amazing! The way you turned the trial around so fast, just like that!" She snapped her fingers for emphasis. "The prosecution had it's back up against the wall! You sure showed him!"

"Ah, well," sighed Prosecutor Gavin, shrugging as he left the courtroom." It's as the Chief Prosecutor says. This time, the facts were in your favor. Next time…?" He shrugged. "Who knows? I suggest you prepare to bring your best, Herr Wright. Maybe next time, for once, things will start going my way, ja?"

_How does that guy never get discouraged? _Apollo was genuinely impressed. _The only time Gavin's ever won a case against Mr. Wright was back when Mr. Wright was falsely accused of forgery all those years ago, and that doesn't really count. I'm pretty sure even Gavin realizes that. Where the heck does his confidence come from?_

"Daddy, that was almost your fastest win ever!" Trucy grinned. "Only two hours long! Keep this up and we'll break a record! We can call you 'the fastest defense attorney on the West Coast!'"

"Uh," muttered Mr. Wright, frowning. "Let's…actually not do that. Speed's not really the point, here…"

"Yeah, but you have to admit it's catchy." Trucy nodded thoughtfully to herself. "It'd look good on paper, and you know we're always working on better advertisements. We might be better off with 'the fastest defense attorney in the west,' though, and just let the 'coast' part be assumed. Keep it simple, right, Polly?"

"What?" Apollo blinked. "Why are you asking me?" _I was in that courtroom too, remember? I mean, we both won that case. Why do I feel like I'm totally invisible, here? That blue suit of his just sucks up the spotlight, huh? _

He was so busy brooding that for a moment, Apollo didn't notice that Mr. Wright was trying to catch his eye.

"Hey," said Mr. Wright. "Apollo."

Apollo scowled and turned back to Athena before Mr. Wright had a chance to finish his sentence. _If he's gearing up for another lecture, _thought Apollo, _then I'm not interested. I already know what I did wrong in there…and it was pretty much everything. I don't need him to start pinpointing all the mistakes I made. I can do my own post-trial analysis, thank you very much._

"Daddy," insisted Trucy, "I'm really hungry. So's Athena. So's Polly."

Apollo shook his head. "Actually, Trucy, I'm not really in the mood. You guys go ahead. I think I'll head back to the office and get some work in on the Carrie Hannigan defense before it gets too late."

Athena looked startled. "Huh? You're not coming with us? But Apollo, you have to! This was a big win for you!"

_Oh, really? _Apollo sighed. _So you did notice that I was there. After way you're all fawning over Mr. Wright, I was starting to wonder if maybe you'd forgotten about the hours I spent last night preparing and writing up all those notes on the evidence. Mr. Wright never takes notes on anything, he just makes it up as he goes along. What kind of an organizational system is that? It's insane. It's dangerous. It's…actually kind of scarily impressive, but the point is that it's unprofessional. I bet he got a great night's sleep before the trial today. The rest of us regular, average defense attorneys actually get nervous before a trial, but no, I'm sure he doesn't. After all, he's God's gift to the justice system, am I right? _

"Apollo?" Athena frowned. "Are you feeling okay? Your face is getting all red."

"If you're getting sick, then maybe you should go home after all," added Trucy. "We'll need you in tomorrow's trial! Although, I guess if you're not feeling up to it, Daddy could stand in for you like he did that one time when you got injured. It's kind of cool having three defense attorneys in the office now, isn't it?"

"Yeah," mumbled Apollo. "It's great." _So, what you're saying, Trucy, is that I'm expendable, right? After all, there are three of us, and one of us is a legend, so Athena and I are pretty much just substitutes. Jeez…_

"Yeah," he said aloud. "Yeah, I'm not feeling so great, so I'm gonna go home, actually. I'll see you all tomorrow."

Athena and Trucy exchanged worried look. "Well, if you're sure," sighed Athena. "Feel better, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Apollo flashed Athena a quick smile, then turned around and started to head for the courthouse doors.

"Apollo," called Mr. Wright, "Hold it. There's something I want to talk to you about."

_Nope. _If anything, Apollo just picked up the pace. _There is absolutely nothing you could say right now that I'd be interested in hearing. Sorry, boss. _

**That evening, at Apollo Justice's apartment…**

Apollo was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He'd spent the last several hours going over the notes for the Hannigan case, but the stress of that morning's trial was really starting to take its toll, and he was completely exhausted.

_Maybe, _he told himself, _I could close my eyes for a couple of hours and grab a quick nap. Then I'll wake up around midnight and start on the notes again. Yeah. That'll be nice and refreshing. _Then, he yawned. _Nah, who am I kidding? If I let myself fall asleep now, it's all over. Gotta stay awake and stay strong to make sure I'm prepared. No big deal. I can do it. I'm fine. Maybe a cup of coffee would help…_

He was just about to force himself off the couch and to head for the coffee maker in the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

"What…?" Turning in mid-stride, he crossed to the door and pulled it open.

Mr. Wright was standing outside, massaging his right temple and looking just as tired as Apollo was trying not to feel. He had a coffee cup in one hand, and a weary sort of smile on his face.

"Um," said Apollo. "Can I…help you, boss?"

Phoenix nodded. "So, you're still at it. I figured you would be. Mind if I come in for a minute? I brought you something."

Without waiting for a response, he slipped past Apollo and shut the door behind him. Apollo didn't have quite enough energy to put up a fight, and had to settle for glaring.

"Here," said Mr. Wright, holding out the coffee cup. "I thought you might need this."

"What is it?" Apollo frowned. "More of that 'blend number 107' stuff?" _I hate that stuff he keeps in the office. How can anyone drink that? It's so bitter…_

"Nope," replied Mr. Wright. "I got it from the café down the street It's not bad. You might actually like it, and it looks like you could use a pick-me-up. I had a cup myself before I came over, so don't worry, this one's yours."

Apollo eyed the coffee warily for a moment before accepting it and trying a sip. Actually, it was pretty good, and as soon as he'd tasted it he realized just how much he'd needed it. The hot liquid gave him a pleasant little shock as it ran down his throat, and he felt the warmth starting in his chest and beginning to revitalize the exhausted places in him the way only large doses of caffeine ever could.

"You're working hard, I see," Mr. Wright was saying, "but do you have a minute? There's something I've been meaning to say to you, and you took off this morning before I had a chance. It won't take long."

"Uh…" Apollo raised an eyebrow. "Now? Look, Mr. Wright I'm kind of busy, but-!"

"I said it won't take long. I promise." Mr. Wright settled himself down on the couch, and Apollo realized he wasn't really being given a choice in the matter.

Mr. Wright frowned, and gazed thoughtfully not at Apollo, but at the coffee cup in Apollo's hands. "I think," he began, "that we've kinda let things get out of hand."

Apollo didn't say anything. _Here it comes, _he thought. _Here's the lecture we've all been waiting for. _

"I probably should have seen this coming sooner," Mr. Wright went on, "but we've both been busy and there hasn't been a lot of time for personal issues, or, uh, whatever kind of 'male bonding' you're supposed to do to ward off situations like this. I'm a decent lawyer, but I'm not much of a mentor, honestly, which I'm sure you've figured out already. I get caught up in the work, and I lose track of the personal elements. I've been a little careless with you and Athena, and that's how we ended up here. I hope you can forgive me for that."

Apollo shuffled his papers uncomfortably on his lap. _Oh, _he realized. _So it's going to be another lame attempt at an apology. I wonder if Trucy coached him on this one, too._

"You've been working with me for a little over two years, now," said Mr. Wright, shaking his head. "It's hard to believe it's already been that long. I invited you to work for the Wright Anything Agency because I needed you, and, yeah, I used your skills as a defense attorney to help me get my name cleared. I couldn't stand up in court on my own, and I needed someone competent to do it for me. I'm not pretending anything else. I had an end, and you were the means. You solved my problem, and I'm grateful for that, but maybe it's time I started looking at this situation a little differently."

Mr. Wright looked up and met Apollo's eyes for the first time. There was something unexpectedly vulnerable and human in Mr. Wright's eyes for a moment that caught Apollo completely off guard. Mr. Wright smiled, shrugged, and shook his head.

"You're not just 'the guy who got me off the hook,' he said quietly. "Maybe it's time for me to stop being grateful and start paying closer attention to what you've become. I don't know if it has anything to do with me or not, but you've changed a lot over these past couple of years, and you're even more promising as an attorney than I expected you would be. It's true that I don't necessarily need you anymore. I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, but that goes both ways. You don't exactly need me anymore, either. We're not a mentor and a student, and we're not the savior and the saved, either. We're a team, and I'm lucky to have you on my side. I'd like to try building our relationship from that basis, from now on. That's all."

Apollo wasn't sure what to say. He sat there with his mouth slightly open, trying to frame a bunch of arguments in his head that never solidified. Mr. Wright stood up, flashed him another quick little tired smile, and turned towards the door.

"Oh, and before I forget," he said over his shoulder, "you did a good job in court today. Not perfect, but definitely good. If you ever want to talk through that case with me, let me know. You know where to find me. I'll see you in the morning."

Then, just like that, he was gone, and the door had already closed behind him before Apollo had a chance to react.

"Wha…?" He stared for a long moment at the door. "H-hey, wait, that's…that's not fair. What am I supposed to say to that?"

The warmth in his chest now came from more than just a good cup of coffee. Somehow, he wasn't really that tired anymore. In fact, he felt like he still had hours of effort in him. Mr. Wright's last words kept echoing around in his head, and even as he tried not to savor them, they sunk in and made that cofffee taste even sweeter than it had before.

'_Good job today', huh? _He found himself smiling, even if he felt a little stupid at the same time. Hah. Well. N_ever thought I'd hear him say that…_

**Fin.**

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**Author's End Note: **And that really is the end of that little arc, for now, at least. On to the next chapter! Next up; Simon Blackquill! Stay tuned, and please do leave a review if you're reading! You have no idea how happy it makes me when you do!


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